


Little Tin Soldiers

by Takana_Kimore



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Anxiety, Canon-Typical Violence, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Disturbing Themes, F/M, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:19:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4330086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takana_Kimore/pseuds/Takana_Kimore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were once children, now soldiers attempting to be children once again. They struggle to find their common ground once they are no longer needed. After the Giant War, Percy and his friends must find themselves in this plastic world against the pitfalls and tribulations accompanying adolescence and post-war trauma. For in the aftermath of battle, the gang must face the problems they have long shelved, and pray their love can bind them together lest they fall apart to dust and ash. </p><p>(A much darker, alternate ending to Blood of Olympus)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Returning Home (The Start of A Long Journey)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my other project, which is my first time attempting to write a dark story. This idea has been bothering me since reading the final book to the HOH series, and I have finally listened to my muse. However, it is a cruel muse and later chapters will be very triggering. I would advise to read the warnings, but this chapter is very mild. Bear with me because this is my first dark story and my first time writing any story involving these concepts, so some chapters may be either uncomfortable or awkwardly written. Besides that, I hope you enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt to write a dark story. This idea has been bothering me since I read the final book in the HOO series, and I have finally listened to the cruel muse that lingers in my mind. As I have been called callous, ambitious, and abrasive, expect that this story will be very triggering as I will not be in the right state of mind when I write the chapters for the most part. This experience will be a mixture of making my own impression on the fandom and a therapeutic experiment. Bear with me and the story, for this chapter may be mild, but many of the concepts are not—thus, leaving behind uncomfortable or awkwardly written paragraphs. Thank you and I hope you enjoy.

_Chapter 1: Returning Home (The Start of A Long Journey)_

_There is a saying about the man behind the gun. He wields his weapon with the familiarity of a long-time friend, the caress of a lover, and the trust of an ally without fear, without courage, without mind. He enters battle tall and leaves small and humbled, the weapon dull and lank by his side. For he has hills and valleys etched in his skin from bullets coming too hot and too close; niches and dips exist where silver blades have made several attempts to make a new sheath; and a steady trail of blood clings to the soles of his boots the path created from the hordes of enemies he has cleaved through. He bares the scars—seen and unseen—when he is sent home with a little money and a high expectation to integrate back into modern society. But for those who have seen battle, in its intimately grim and glorious state, the battle is never over. Behind their eyes is a war and our little tin soldiers are standing weary and ready to crumble._

…

In theory, when a war is won and the swords are put away and the politicians prepare their gloating speeches, the world is supposed to seem a little happier, a little better, and more secure in the light of a new dawn. Right now, the world feels utterly and completely bleak as Jason stands over the pyre for Leo Valdez. His friend was dead; his life and light extinguished in an instant flame that had encompassed the sky. The Seven had defeated Gaea, but at too high a cost. Leo was his best friend and he had done absolutely nothing in his power to save him. What kind of person could he call himself? A fair leader who lets his friends die around him or a man who aspires to be great when all he could do was pass out in the sky? Jason shook his head to clear his thoughts. It was too early, too soon with the pain raw like a freshly opened wound on his heart. He could deal with his insecurities when the time was right. He glanced around at the remaining members of the Seven.

They were a subdued group. The sounds from the quiet mourning pyres in the background mingled with the hushed conversations barely reached the area they were standing upon. The remaining members of the Seven were standing grief bound around Leo’s pyre. Annabeth and Percy were hunched together, red eyed and watching the plume of smoke lifting off as if repeating some ritual from the past. Hazel’s small body was partially hidden by Frank’s bulking mass. The poor girl was shaking immensely, her heart-wrenching sobs echoed loudly and no one had the heart to stop her. Jason knew Leo had like her once before he moved on and the pair had become friends, but he had not known the extent of their friendship. Now, she was expressing all of their grief.

And Piper was— _Gods,_ Jason had never been so scared for her. She was silent, practically catatonic with long tear lines smearing across her beautiful face. The daughter of Aphrodite stared plainly ahead, watching the wreath she made disintegrate into ash. Her eyes were glossy, yet unseeing, and Jason fought the urge to punch a tree. If he had been stronger, faster, he didn’t know! He did not know. But Jason knew if he was a better demigod, he could have saved Leo. Leo would have been here, alive and well, and the seven would have been enjoying the festivities. Instead he was dead.

In Jason’s fair and subtle opinion, the world had gone to schist and he was not going to try to help it. No, he had paid his views and he would happily wait for the politics exchange to begin, eager to watch the Romans and Greeks falter over how to proceed. Their unwillingness to fight alongside one another in the beginning had led to many casualties. And their late agreement to be allies to stop Gaea’s forces had cost him his best friend. Despite the logical part of his side claiming it was not their fault, Jason chose to follow the smaller voice in his head. He was not thinking rationally and he did not care to he was sad and had a damn right to be.

He wondered how Reyna was managing the cohorts. The Romans and Greeks had been bitter enemies for over a millennium and a swift change in the 21st century was not going to change everyone’s opinion. At least there was less people out for Greek blood- _ahem! Octavian_. However, it did not guarantee that everyone would be happy with the arrangement. For now, he could allow the dust to settle and let the people bask in relief that they are alive before reparations are demanded and fists fly in the forums.

His eyes drew back to the fire raging at the pyre. There were so many littered around the camp that is was almost indistinguishable about who was burning where. Farther off was the beginning of a celebration, drinks were being shared and there was plenty of food. Jason knew the next night would entail some sort of extravagant celebration—the Greeks loved to party, but the Romans invented them. Leo would have loved them too.

 A soft rustling to his right caused him to abruptly turn his head. The thudding of boots crunched on the grassy fields and the tall, imposing figure of Reyna appeared. Her braided hair was loose, stray hair strands framing her face. The praetor stood made her way into the soft evening glow, a frown marring her delicate face. She looked at the pyre and back at them. Slightly behind her, a short teen stepped out. He was dressed in a black tee that was very different from his old Hawaiian get up. Dark jeans and combat boots completed the look, while dark circles clung to the pallid flesh beneath his eye. Jason gave a nod to Nico di Angelo, who merely nodded back before a concerned look settled on his face.

Jason watched as the son of Hades walked past the rest of the group without them noticing before stopping in front of Hazel. She stepped away from Frank and walked into his open arms. He encircled the girl in a hug, stroking her curly hair and checking her for injuries.

“You’re okay. Thank the gods.” He kissed her forehead with another bout of tenderness. He wiped his pale hands across her skin, taking away tears.

“The question is whether you are okay.” She took a step back and smiled at him. “And stop parenting me. You are barely older.” He let out a breathless laugh and hugged her closer. Then he seemed to remember where he was as he dropped his hands from her person. She tugged his hands back and gasped at the long, stained bandages covering his arms.

“Nico, what?” He dropped his hands again. “We’ll talk about it later.” By now, everyone was staring at them unabashedly. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, looking at her brother with pleading eyes. Nico sighed and grabbed her hand and the two siblings turned away from each other, away from their private world.

The little touching scene made Jason smile. The son of Hades had someone who loved him just as much as he loved her. And he had complained about not belonging to either camp when there was someone who wanted him to be around. But, in the back of his head, Jason heard a nagging voice. _His sister cannot make him stay. She would not understand._ He jerked his head; Jason did not need to focus on those thoughts now.

An uneasy silence permeated the air between the eight demigods. The group transitioned into the phase, uninterrupted until the coals and embers died down and finally left little piles of ash. They stood there, still and unmoving, as the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon, the fading light just waiting for some semblance of peace to be established before retreating from sight. The fire had died. What time was left of the day would be devoted to discovering how long their patience could last. In the end, it was Reyna who interrupted.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Reyna said. “I may not have liked the son of Hephaestus much, but he was a good guy. He didn’t deserve this fate.” _None of us do_. Jason knew the praetor long enough to know what was left unsaid.

Piper nodded. “He was one of the best of us.”

“Is he really gone?” Jason’s head snapped in Annabeth’s direction. The daughter of Athena was addressing the children of the Underworld with critical eyes, a piercing gaze that made the two shift uncomfortably.

“I’ll admit his death felt odd.” Nico admitted looking at the remnants of the fire. “I’ll investigate it more once I can get back into the Underworld. _Or when Father lets me back in_.” He muttered the last part under his breath, possibly assuming that no one would hear it, but the wind caught and carried the message.

“Wait, when your father lets you back? Did you get kicked out of the Underworld?” Nico turned a cruel glare on the son of Poseidon.

“No, but he does not need me around to pester him with questions regarding another demigod’s death, especially one he predicted. When he is done dealing with the dead and I am relieved of my duties here, I am going back. Does that answer satisfy your question Jackson?” He spat the words, the tone bitter cold compared the warmth it was once filled with for Hazel. Reyna placed a placating hand on his shoulder and Jason watched Nico bite his cheek.

“That’s not what he meant Perc—“Jason started.

“And he doesn’t need you to explain Jason. If you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be.” The son of Hades stomped off into the descending night, fading into the shadow.

“I told him not to do that.” Reyna muttered. “I’m sorry, but I have a meeting to attend to and I need to borrow Frank. Meet me at the Praetor’s tent in fifteen minutes.” She nodded at the rest of them, her purple cloak the last thing visible as she marched away from the Camp.

“Why did you have to do that?” Jason sighed looking at Percy. The other demigod looked confused.

“I didn’t do anything. I just—“Annabeth held up a hand, interrupting her boyfriend.

“He said Leo’s death was strange. How?” Her attention was focused on Hazel, who shifted away from Frank. The older demigod looked down at her.

“Can you handle it?” She gave him a watery smile and pushed him softly.

“Go off and be Mr. Praetor. I’ll see you later.” Frank kissed her forehead and looked the rest of them in the eye slowly.

“Do not give her a hard time about this. It was Leo’s choice.” And then he too stalked off. Frank’s threat rested in the air with a gruff voice and a promise of hurt. Subconsciously, the son of Mars had tapped into his power, both assuring Hazel that no one would bother her but making sure the others knew she was not to blame for whatever had occurred. It made Jason all the more curious and scared. What did Hazel have to do with it?

“The physician’s cure.” Piper exclaimed. Her eyes were bright and watery, unseeing of anything besides the possibility that her friend could be alive. “It has to be. Leo is still alive.”

“He can’t be.” Hazel muttered. She told about Leo’s story and their plan. About what he wanted to do in order to fulfill the prophecy. “I may not be as good as my brother, but I am attuned to your life and death auras. Leo is gone and I messed with the Mist to help him and he—“she broke off, falling into another tear fit. “We couldn’t save him.”

Percy embraced her in a second as she dissolved into tears again. It was easy to forget they were young and had dealt with so much until someone close died, whether it was from an accident or a noble sacrifice. Jason couldn’t stand it; the knowledge that Leo had knowingly committed suicide for their benefit—their lives. He reached out for Piper’s hand and bid the others goodnight before flying off with his girlfriend. As they hung in the night sky, he buried his face into her hair and let his tears fall. The moonlight danced off the tears of his own and Piper’s, but at that moment he could have cared less. He failed them. He failed them all when it really mattered.

…

The Roman encampment stood out tall on the edge of Camp Half-Blood, a stark contrast against the towering trees with white tips scraping the dark sky. Cloth tips were scattered and spread around the strawberry fields. Frank let his feet lead him through the settlement, trusting his instincts to lead him in the right direction. His feet pounded into the dirt, imprints of his path away from Leo’s pyre. He was Praetor now, a leader and a symbol of the Roman legion, and a far-cry from the awkward stumbling boy he once was. His position was only solidified by the confidence of Jason and the acceptance of Reyna, albeit the latter was slightly scary. Despite his new responsibilities, Frank didn’t feel like a leader. The praetor was supposed to inspire strength and fearlessness, but considering the outcome of the battle, all Frank had done was aid his friend in meaningless madness.

He found he could not dwell on the matter too long, however, once he approached the Praetor tent. Reyna was sitting in her chair, her dogs sitting obediently by her feet. She was staring at a map on the large strategy table, idly pushing little pawns around. It was the battle strategy planned to use against the Greeks. The tent was grandiose, filled with golden lanterns that made the room bright and covered in a plush carpeting. Chairs were set up around the strategy table, and plates of fruit were located at the side. Frank grabbed an apple and bit into the plump green skin, licking a little of the juice off of his lips.

“Hello, Frank.” She said without looking up. “It seems we need a new augur.”

She said it, as if it was a joke. As if Octavian was as replaceable as they come, but the fact was he wasn’t. Octavian, ignoring his perverse dreams of power, was one of the smartest, charismatic people Frank knew. And Octavian had wielded it to his advantage. Frank nodded and thought on how to approach the subject.

“We would need one for the Roman people to follow. The truce with the Greeks won’t easily be accepted without some sort of divine proof and we do not adhere to prophecies from an oracle.” Reyna hummed, his answer accepted.

“Nico told me the oracle has lost her power. We are without divine help now Zhang. Perhaps, it would be best to start by announcing you as Praetor properly to the legions tomorrow. We will be starting council around 12 and I would prefer to get traditions out the way.” She sighed.

“You can call me Frank, you know. Now that we will be working together.” He supplied. She seemed tired and drained.

“Hey, I managed to get you some food. I didn’t know what you wanted but I bought some asopao de pollo from this Puerto Rican restaurant in the city.” Nico casually entered the tent, placing steaming plates of a rice chicken stew in front of the praetor. He laid out some napkins, utensils, and opened a bottle Snapple before sitting in the seat across from her. The domesticity of the scene stunned Frank. He had not known the two were so close.

“Did you eat?” Reyna asked conversationally. She took a mouthful of the food and moaned.

“I had an orange. I was more worried about you. You’ve been using too much of your strength and I don’t recall whether you ate today.” He shrugged.

“The same applies for you, di Angelo. I need you in top shape for tomorrow.” Frank raised an eyebrow.

“You need Nico for tomorrow?” Reyna wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“Of course. He is, after all, the ambassador of Pluto and one of our only connections to the gods.”

“Not to mention, I have a trial approaching.” The son of Hades smirked.

Frank remembered. There was a time when any associations or affiliations with Greeks would warrant death, and in more modern times, those deaths came to include cruel and unusual punishments. Nico had gone beyond that. He had hid the identity of each camp from one another, like a spy. And spies deserved the worse from the Roman code.

“Do you think you can handle?” _Can Hazel handle it?_ Frank asked, his eyes boring into the other male occupant. Nico waved a simple hand in his direction.

“The more appropriate question is if you can handle it Frank?” _Can you be there for Hazel?_ “I know what I have to do in order for the camps to join together and that would take trials on both ends. They’ll want to point fingers, and in this case, as both Leo and Octavian are dead, the next viable option would be me.”

“So you want to be used as a scapegoat!” Frank shouted. Reyna stopped eating and looked at him.

“Frank, you are a Praetor now. There will be times when we have to make decisions we do not like because it is what is right for the People. For now, all we can hope is that Nico gets a fair trial on our end. I am sure Jason will do his part with the Greeks.” Her fists tightened around her fork. “I do not think any of us like this idea, but it is a solid plan and we need a foundation to build on. Many communities bond through having a common goal and a common enemy.”

“And you are just going to let this happen? What good are we doing for the people if we are putting an innocent guy on trial? Gaea is dead.”

“Do you not get it Frank? You are entering the world of politics. There is no ‘innocent’ anymore!” Nico shouted, his chair shooting back. “If this was the legal system, we would all be on trial for doing something—stealing, killing, and assault and battery. But this isn’t. If you expected everything to be fine after this battle, then you are wrong. Reyna and I have discussed this since leaving you guys at the pyre. It’s a solid plan and the Romans nor the Greeks can pin me with anything since I cut ties with the latter.”

“But—“

“This is our job. We do not have easy decisions to make. All we can hope is that the transition is fast and smooth and we can put this behind us. I hate doing this, but as the leader of New Rome I have to pass some judgement and make it as less severe as possible. He’s my friend.” Reyna breathed through her nostrils. “That’s all I have to say for tonight. Thank you, Nico, for dinner, but make sure you eat something. I need to speak with you early tomorrow. Frank, I need to show you to your quarters.” She stood with Argentum and Aurum at her heel.

“Hazel is staying with me tonight. I just wanted you to know in case you wanted to come by later.” With that, Nico disappeared into the shadows. Frank followed Reyna out into the camp. It was mostly deserted. Many were still out talking with the Greeks or mourning the fallen.

“You are going to have a very tough time as Praetor. Because you left with the Greeks that assaulted our home, you are going to be under more scrutiny than I. Let’s hope Simon and Ryan can sway the 1st and 3rd cohorts in your favor. They liked you more than Olivia ever did, but we all know Olivia was obsessed with Octavian.” Her words fell through the air with a roughness he was unaccustomed to.

“I think you should be more worried about yourself Reyna. In your absence, Octavian had very likely swayed most of the cohorts against you in order to gain more power. We all know he had been attempting mutiny since Jason’s disappearance. I’ll handle Olivia when the time comes.” Reyna gave him a tired smile and Frank couldn’t help but to return a nervous one.

"I know what you think of me Frank and I cannot change your opinion. I have been ruling New Rome for a year now, without any assistance and I apologize if I seem rough or unapproachable. However, being a leader is hard. Like I said before, we have to make decisions we don’t agree with to keep the peace. And I would prefer this treaty go thought without any hitches.”

“Agreed. If I can ask, what was the previous meeting about?”

"Boring, day to day things. Nothing you should be concerning yourself with yet. Focus on the larger goal first and we can iron out the minor details later. Goodnight Frank.” The daughter of Bellona turned and walked away. Frank sighed. He could feel the worry lines filing in and he straightened his shoulders. He would not fall under the extreme pressure of New Rome and he would not let Hazel’s brother go to jail. He would need to ask Jason and Percy for help on the Greek end if nothing else mattered. Frank entered his tent, a new plan growing in his mind. He may not be the son of Minerva, but he would prove to make a strategy just as good as her offspring’s. He would stop by the Hades cabin later.

…

After separating from Hazel and leaving her at the Hades Cabin, Percy had locked himself in his room to dwell on the events of the day. It had been his blood. His blood had led to the rise of Gaea, mingled with Annabeth’s. Gaea, the primordial, who had caused the death of Leo. Percy dug his hands into the blue sheets of his bed. He had missed this—his cabin, his home, and his memories. Now he could not stand it! This entire quest had been a wild chase into the unknown; a way to find where he belonged on the spectrum next to the most powerful demigods of the century. And like so many times before, he managed to fail.

In his youth— _Gods, he was already thinking of himself as an old man_ —and arrogance, his naivety even, he had lost friends, but triumphed from the efforts of others. Others like Silena and Beckendorf, Ethan and Luke, and Bianca and Zoe, who were some of the best warriors he had known in his entire life. And yet, here he was alive and well and young; most demigods barely made it to 21, and he was resting on a white cot, comfortable while his friends and allies were suffering, on a straight track to immortality.

The son of Poseidon was tired of the endless cycles of prophecies, death, and doing the gods’ dirty work whilst they watched from their throne room in Olympus. Enough blood had been shared and spill; the expense of losing good friends and companions because the gods were too stubborn, too proud to fight their own battles was a punch to the throat. Unlike the others, Percy barely had time to truly bond with the son of Hephaestus, but from his interactions with the young demigod, he trusted him inexplicitly. Tears strung his eyes as they sprung forth. The simple fact that Leo was gone and his death could have been prevented was unacceptable. He couldn’t bring himself to blame Hazel for her honest admission; the girl had revealed Leo’s plan to them shortly after Frank left. He could not find it in himself to blame Jason or Piper or anyone else from their crew.

“Gah!” he yelled, punching the bed suddenly. The fountain bubbled dangerously in the background, whirlpools forming rapidly with each shuddering breath.

Percy was too old to cry for himself. Yet, as his emotions hit its peak, he was absorbed in an action he should have done long ago, after the Titan War. The tears for the innocent ones rolled over tanned skin, his lips opening to release shaky noises resembling sickening sobs. It was not fair. The life of a demigod was marked by misfortune and unpleasant indecencies, and still the cost was always the same—the life of a wet behind the ears child with hands on a weapon too heavy for his baby smooth hands to hold. A child with sloppy brown hair and wide adorable eyes, big with wonder for a world made to chew him up and spit him out. And they would soon go to the pile to be burned with the bodies of their peers as they served their purpose and any further use would be impractical. Gods, they had been so young; half younger than Percy had given their lives for a fight that only repeats on and off for millennia. As if their sacrifice did anything, Percy scoffed, he and his friends had only staved off the inevitable and condemned their descendants to the same misfortune that had befallen them.

Well, not all of the misfortune. At 16, Percy had defeated the titan Kronos, the titan’s mother, and survived a personal tour through Tartarus. His only wish now was that his children and grandchildren would not have to face the same malicious forces for some time. He had gone through hell to save Annabeth, for a chance for a future, Percy shuddered and swallowed some of his tears. He did not want to relive those horrible memories. The horrors he had seen and the deeds he had participated in; the poor teen could feel his threads wearing away, fading and falling apart at the very seams that he so messily tried to stitch back together.

But, the needle thin and dull, could barely repair the damage; and so, he was already falling. Percy knew he was not okay, long before rejoining the crew of the Argo II. On the huge airship, he had felt the probing stares and glances of the others, each holding back their polite inquiries about his mental state. He would have caved if not for Annabeth. She had her pride about her and refused to be forced back by some inconvenient trip to hell, other masses of monsters. So, like any other rational boyfriend, Percy followed his girlfriend’s example; he adopted a system of staving off the ache and pretending he was fine with a smile so fake it hurt to use it. He knew Jason has partially seen through the façade and the golden boy would put the pieces together eventually, especially after the near-drowning incident.

Wrapped in poison, Percy had felt himself drifting away. The sea was beckoning him, making sweet promises of relief and freedom from the stress of being a hero. At the time it felt –so right. To mix in with the sea, his birthright, and nestle into its soft embrace was one both a peaceful desire and a sickening plea. Percy did not consider himself to be suicidal nor did he have those intentions. Which was why he had been so shocked by his lack of a fight underneath the netting—when had Percy ever fought back hard enough?

All his life, Percy had known people who had something worth fighting for. Annabeth had her family—including him; Jason had his patron and his friends; Piper had her family; Leo was motivated by revenge before he devoted his full attention to rescuing Calypso; Hazel, Frank, and Reyna wanted to protect their last and final home. Hell, Nico had his own motivation that Percy didn’t even know. And Percy had his family and his home. But combined, he was only the muscle. Not the person fighting desperately with every fiber of their being until their last breath, willing to forgo living in order to keep the world from falling into chaos.

People regarded him as a hero of Olympus, but Percy took the backseat compared to the others. They were smarter, faster, better than he could be on a daily basis. It was Annabeth’s strategies that he followed; Jason and Piper’s unswaying faith in their abilities; and he was the bran to boost their goals and ambitions. Heck, he still owed the tiny kid who fought in the streets of Manhattan to keep Kronos’ army at bay while Percy tracked the titan down for the final battle in Olympus. He owed them all so much, because without them, Percy would be dead.

The fact hit him in his heart. He had hardly paid attention to those who led to his fame. Instead he had left some behind, trailing after his newfound glory with his giant ego and his new relationship and status among the campus. It was a selfish love that caused him this feeling. He was a selfish bastard.

The dam finally broke and Percy sobbed heart wrenching gasps that made his chest constrict painfully. What was he mourning now?  Perhaps it was his actions or his allies dead and gone or demigod life in general—all of which accumulated in his heart and compressed into a cycle of thoughts in his mind. He turned over and buried his head into the pillow, hoping the bed would absorb his self-inflicted hatred. Gods, it was horrible. He broke down, hiccuping heavy sobs, curling into himself and retreating into the shell of a broken hero.

He didn’t hear the door open and close with a hushed whisper. Light hands traced patterns over his back and he opened his eyes to see golden princess curls and elegant features marred by a frown.

“Wise Girl? Whah—“Percy hurriedly brush away his tears, praying he had not smeared snot everywhere.

“Shh, Percy, just scoot over.” Annabeth moved beside him on the bed, cradling his head in her chest. “It’s okay Percy. Let it out.”

So he cried, jarring shoulder movements painfully beating his girlfriend’s chest. The reverberation of his tears over took the noise of the twinkling fountain. Annabeth’s shirt grew damp with the tears of her boyfriends and she caressed his unruly hair, making soothing reassurances. Time grew longer until Percy finally looked at her with leaky, red rimmed eyes.

“You can continue. It’s okay to cry.”

“No its not! We’re too young Annabeth. We’re too young for this and just when I thought we were done with the prophecy and then we got stuck in—“he cut himself off with a deep gulp of air.

“Percy, focus on my breaths, you’re panicking. One, two, three, breathe in. That’s good. Breathe out, one, two three.” She wrapped his hands around her back and pulled his chest against hers to feel the rise and fall of her breathes from between cotton fabric. Percy took deep breaths, focusing on her and only her as she commanded him to breathe. They sat like that for a while, just breathing in the quiet even after his breathing corrected itself. He yawned despite himself, the low pace of her heartbeat lulling him into a deep sleep.

“Are you tired?” he nodded numbly.

“Then go to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning. We can talk then.” So he entrapped his savior into his arms and went into a dreamless sleep without being plagued by the faces of the people he hurt or the memories of Tartarus. And when the Apollo’s chariot rose over the sky in the morning, all that could be seen in Cabin 3 was the painfully tight grip of two lovers clinging to each other to weather a storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I started all my stories at the same sorry age of 14, believing I could recreate the worlds I had read about in a visceral, gut-wrenching experience through the use of English language. Now that I am older, I have taken the time to erase massive plot holes that I left, change pacing, language, and some grammar errors and start anew with a project that meant so much to me as a freshman in high school. Hopefully, this version will become better and I thank you for your patience as I advance through all the stories on my page and re-update/re-upload/complete them. Thank you!


	2. Your Wish is My Command

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a difficult place when it gets like this  
> It’s hard to raise a child when it gets like this  
> Oh, giving this my all was my only wish  
> But, it’s hard to do you right when it gets like this  
> \--Majid Jordan, “A Place like This”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Vague description of torture, memory flashbacks (brief, but disturbing), and implied rape.
> 
> So, this is long awaited Chapter 2 and you can all thank my tablet for not cooperating with me on this bad boy. Over 8000 words of pure torture written during my strange bouts of insomnia. Heed the warnings, grab some tissues and enjoy.

_Chapter 2: Your Wish is My Command_

_Sometimes we get lost in our wishes. The things we once wanted we cannot have anymore and the things we once had are no longer usable. We both forget what happened first, the breaking or the beating. But either way, I’m stuck here next to you, for another day. So let’s make the most of this time, before we both fall into that empty void._

_Then I remembered. We are already here._

…

The moon had yet to fall over the greenish hills, craters deeply imbedded in the ground where armies once battled. Strawberries hung on the vines, ripe for picking, rich and red like the warm blood that flowed through the numerous veins. And dew lightly settled on the sky-high trees, somehow brushing along the stars, asking, praying, and perhaps wishing. Hazel wishes she had her sketchpad to draw it all. Then maybe this would be worth remembering. Leo’s home, her friends’ home, her brother’s home all the same destination on the map and Hazel was not eager to learn about it, draw it, envision and emulate it in works of sleek, charcoal canvas lines. She had lost her inspiration, not her ambition, just passion.

She mulled it over, the moon still hanging over the firmament. She wondered if the moon knew what it was like to fall, if it even noticed how it would disappear behind the bright sheen of the sun. Only it hung in the midst of a gray, morning sky. Hazel could understand the moon. She too, did not know what it was like; she only knew how to drown in the earth. But Leo, Leo knew how to plummet and burn, like a supernova. Fitting, since she could not plunge deep into the soil, only watch it turn into scorched dirt and rock.

“You should be sleeping. It’s only four, go back to sleep.” The voice was heavy and lulling. She wrinkled her nose, eyes still closed off from the world and lips too stiff to render new motions.

 “Like you can talk.” She slurred, nuzzling into her pillow. “You should sleep. I won’t sleep until you will.” She heard a huff and a sigh before cool arms wrapped her body from above the comforter. Hazel’s head was tucked against his chest, her hair hitting her brother’s face. But he did not say a word, pulling her tighter.

“Sing to me,” she requested most her voice lost in the pillow. He sighed and sucked in a deep breath.

“Why don’t I ever deny you things?” he huffed.

“Because you love me too much.” His breath hitched and neither made a sound. For ten minutes, they lay in deep darkness, feeling their way around the tangled frays that made them human.

  _“Brilla brilla una stellina_

_Su nu cielo piccolina_

_Brilla brilla sopra noi_

_Mi domando di chi sei_

_Brilla brilla la stellina_

_Ora tu sel piú vicina”_ he sang in soft whispers, his voice barely amplifying above the noise of the crickets and wind, but it was peaceful like an old cradlesong. He repeated the lines again and again, tracing, stroking her head until Hazel found herself slipping back into sleep, dead to the world.

Hazel awoke to the squinting sunshine on the next day; the moon had finally descended below the horizon. Her simple white night gown chaffed against the light green blankets as she turned around. Nico was perched up against the headrest, blinking as hair moved in front of his tired and red-rimmed eyes.  Her head rested on his shoulder and she saw the fatigue, how soon he was going to collapse at this rate. She knew he had spent the entire night up watching her. Guiltily, she placed a hand on his cheek.

“Go to sleep.” Slowly he turned his eyes on her face.

“I can’t.” he drew a shaky breath. ”I will make it through the day. Just need a minute.” Nico untangled himself from her and stood from the bed, swaying on his feet. Hazel rushed out, arms catching him before he hit the floor.

“You need rest. Passing out from shadow travel does not fully allow you to recuperate, Nico. It puts you in a coma and that is not recovery. A good night’s rest will do you some favors.” She dragged him back to the bed and pushed him on top of the covers.

A skeletal hand reached out, fingertips pleading for contact. “You can’t let me have even forty winks. You understand me, Hazel. I can’t rest too long.” Gingerly-intertwined fingers and a brush of lips to his cool forehead shut him up.

“The war is over. Trust me, you can sleep.” She gave him a placating smile, wide around the edges and shining too bright to be real. If he saw her anxiety, he did not show it. Just settled his head back onto a pillow and whispered a prayer in a foreign tongue. His bruised eyelids covered the red-rimmed orbs she became so accustomed to seeing.

“Not for me, mia sorella, never for me.” He closed his mouth, lips thinning into a tight line before relaxing. He looked peaceful now, the furrows and creases in his face smoothed out to make him look youthful again. Her lips trembled as she kissed his forehead tenderly, wishing him sweet dreams. She always had to fight him in order to get him to sleep; yet, he always fought her so hard not to take care of himself. The mind was meant to be the last paradise before death, but now he was afraid to seek solace in his own headspace. Today, he acquiesced so easy, as if his body had given up on the fight.  It scared her. Whatever was happening to him, to her, to them?

It was only seven in the morning, the sun steadily peaking from the corner of the earth, so far away as Apollo finally rode his chariot around the world. She would wake her brother in another hour or so. He threw fits when it was longer. Besides, she had a goal for the day, an errand that would occupy enough time of her time to let him sleep.  She wanted to get the remaining seven, Reyna, and Nico together for a group breakfast before they all separated to face the challenges of the new age. Somehow, she could already map out their actions—Frank and Reyna would be working with Camp Half-Blood counselors to establish peace between the camps. Their Greek friends would be reuniting with their own cabins and Nico would return to the underworld. Then she would have no way to keep the gang together.

Emotionally drained, she shuffled into the bathroom. It was private, a wonderful slice of a commodity she had lost over the past weeks. Constantly being walked in on had not been good for her 1930s sensibilities. Unlike the rest of the cabin, the bathroom was not black, but simple marble flooring and slate colored walls. Nico had shadow traveled the previous night to buy basic necessities, including toothpaste, toothbrushes, linens, and other toiletries, because his cabin had been lacking common household items. Feminine products lined the steel shelving racks and Egyptian cotton towels were stacked on the mosaic sink counters. A large tub was located in the corner, a showerhead hanging over the top.

She climbed into the porcelain bathtub and turned the handle on hot. Chilling liquid seeped to the soles of her feet already changing to a steaming stream of fresh water. The temperature burned against her skin, her shoulders shivering from the extreme adjustment of the heat. It felt good. Good to let herself shake in the water that was rising slowly, up and up her skin until hitting her collarbone. She turned the knob again, shutting off the water the supply and leaned back to lather soap onto her rag.

Wet cloth smacked against wet skin, a stinging sensation as she scrubbed away dirt, dust, and blood from her body. She must admit, her body did not hurt like it had yesterday. The exhaustion of battle was not present, nor was the fatigue of overusing her abilities. Nevertheless, the ache remained the deep and dull ache that erupted in her chest cavity and caused her heart to rush, beat out of sync. She had to hold herself at times, to keep her heart in her chest, in her body, stuck in herself like everything else. She licked her dry lips. Leo was gone.

None of them were meant to die—immortal, she thought bitterly. With a crowd including the likes of Percy, Annabeth, and Jason, and other powerful demigods, how could have thought they would lose. Leo was one of her best friends; he ~~isn’t~~ wasn’t supposed to die. Gods, now she had to think in past tense. Hazel knew anyone could feel the overwhelming amount of power that emanated from them; how anyone would believe they were immortal and untouchable, against all the odds, like the gods. How they had so much light and potential, and one candle was extinguished from a magnificent flame. If they burn too bright, they snuff out their own lights. How splendid.

She was not going to give the gods the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She had been a blubbering mess the day before, and now she was eager to portray the strong woman she is. She had to be strong. She was a legionnaire, a woman, and whether she liked it or not, she would cherish and hold her position with the dignity and strength of a queen. Hazel finished washing and drained the tub, ignoring how the dust and blood mingled and made a solid line around the edge of the tub. Wrapping a towel around her body, the girl relished the smell of roses from on the products she allowed herself to indulge in. She had no clothes, so she took her worn jeans and washed as much grime and dirt out of the rough fabric as she could before slipping into them. She took one of her brother’s thin shirts and slipped it over her head, the shirt itself snug, but not excessively tight. After washing out the tub and putting the dirty clothes in a bin, Hazel was ready to leave the cabin.

To be honest, Hazel did not have much of a tour from the previous night, too busy soaking shirts damp with salty tears. Therefore, she lacked any knowledge about where the other cabins would be located. The camp was mostly silent, barely stirring from its slumber, even as pink tendrils stretched out from behind puffy white clouds. However, there seemed to be about ten campers moseying around, carrying cases towards a large white house further off. Their hustle and bustle was accompanied by rich songs, some of which she recognized from the Snow White soundtrack. She had seen it once in 1937 as a special treat with her mother, before Queen Marie went crazy. The movie was lodged in her head now, one of those treasured child memories that you held onto with your dying breath because you knew you would never experience them again. She would love to re-watch it with her boyfriend and the others. They might complain about that new thing, ‘graphics’, but only Nico and herself would appreciate the authenticity. And that alone was all right with her.

She ambled around curiously, watching them go until she stumbled into something solid and tall. That something was over six feet tall, stunning blue eyes, curved lips, and an artisan nose. He was donning a pair of shorts, some running shoes, and a white tank top showing his impressive muscles, one of which was wrapped around her waist to prevent her fall.  Hazel felt herself blushing for examining him so closely.

“I’m sorry.” He said first, setting her on her feet. “I’m usually coordinated in the morning, but I had the night shift.” His smile was crooked, flashing the brilliance of pearly white teeth.

“No, it was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention to anything, just caught up in my thoughts.” She smiled back.

“I’ve never seen you around. Are you one of the new campers? Or one of the Romans?” he asked.

“I’m affiliated with the Romans, yes. I’m actually trying to find some of my friends, Jason Grace and Percy Jackson.” His eyes widened perceptively before the crooked grin reappeared on his face.

“Oh, one of the Seven. I’d be happy to take you there, if you want. I sorta was kicked out the infirmary for pulling an all-nighter. Heh, I could use the walk.” The tall teenager started walking and that is how Hazel found herself bounding after the son of Apollo.

...

Quite literally, Will was dead on his feet. He couldn’t remember the last time he put his head on a pillow, too busy saving lives from a useless war. Too many casualties, too many dying demigods, and his hands were still shaking from the day before. He wanted a break, but he could not cave just yet. He had a job, as head of the infirmary and the Apollo Cabin, to remain calm in situations like this. He wanted Lee or Michael around. He missed them too damn much.

The girl next to him took four steps for his everyone, both adorable and sad. She was tiny, looked barely older than fourteen, age emphasized by a black tee shirt with a dancing skeleton on the front. Those were the good days, when he still had most of his family around. Her massive curls bounced with every step, her golden eyes taking in the sights of the camp. She seemed amazed, her eyes absorbing the architectural details with such scrutiny that one would believe her to be a child of Athena, if it was not for her peculiar eye color.

"So, I never did get your name.” he began. She looked up at him, sharp gaze poking holes into his false-cheery demeanor

“That’s because I never said. I’m Hazel Levesque.” He turned around and took her hand, kissing the back of it.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Levesque, my name is William S. Solace and I will be pleased to be your tour guide today.” His southern drawl slipped off his tongue and the poor girl giggled.

“Is it normal for you to charm girls like this?” She asked politely. Her eyes were warm with humor. Ah, so she was willing to entertain him for a moment.

“Only beautiful girls in the morning.” She blushed. “No, I’m kidding. ‘m one of the more friendly campers, if you get my drift. And a son of Apollo.” He winked.

“I’ll have you know I have a boyfriend,” Hazel replied unashamed and held her head higher, giving him a scolding look.

“I’m not making a move on you. It’s just an ice breaker.” Will did not want a Roman soldier running after him with a giant spear. He was an adept fighter, not perfect, and not in the condition necessary for reaching rapid speeds. If anything he needed caffeine, like yesterday. A large double expresso with lots of whipped cream and chocolate syrup. Yum, he was making himself hungry. 

“That’s good. My brother would go after you as well. I would like to think the infirmary would need you after this detour, but a word of advice: Get some sleep. I tell my brother that every time I see him, and I would love it if someone listened to my advice.”

“Roger that, Ms. Hazel. You know I’m an advocate for getting more than eight hours of sleep every night, but when your father is the god of the sun, it’s kind of hard getting some z’s.” he sighed. “If only my cabin listened to me more often.”

“You’re kidding.” He scoffed.

“No, I’m completely serious. You should hear what these people call me. ‘Mr. Mom’, ‘pain in the bum’, ‘nagger’ and plenty more titles. And don’t get me started on my patients, they have even more names. Apparently, I have an innate ability to hassle any person into a cot for medical care, but that is a lie. They just don’t want to admit they want treatment.” Hazel laughed, eyes crinkling wit mirth. She listened to him complain about his reputation in the camp and Will felt a little lighter. He was a people person, interacting with them made him happy in ways other hobbies could not. He also interrupted his personal story to point out the rock climbing area, the arena and the archer fields.

“I’m not the best archer, but I’m pretty good. Better than the Ares cabin anyway. I am much better with my hands and other things. Mostly healing rather than all the fighting.” He made a vague gesture with his hands, waving to the areas around him where all the dummies stood tall. Hazel nodded.

“Pacifism is not a bad trait. In fact, I prefer it to all these power wars. Before I learned I was a demigod, I was not expecting to wave a spatha around on a daily basis to hold back a pack of monsters. All I wanted to do was shade with my pencils.” She shrugged her shoulders, kicking at a patch of dandelions sticking out from the grassy lawn.  “As for the archer field, Frank would love to practice there. Nico, too, if I can convince Frank to give him lessons. ”

Will froze in his steps. _Nico. Nico. Nico. Nico._  His heart thundered as his lips finally seemed to move. “Nico?” Hazel looked back at him. “Nico di Angelo?” she nodded.

“Yeah. I’m trying to get my boyfriend and my brother to bond over something more than a few Mythomagic cards.” His hands, once shaking, practically vibrated. “It’s going to be hard when he’s here and I’m in California. Knowing him, he’ll probably disappear to the Underworld as soon as he can.” She looked unhappy, miserable like how Will felt inside. His happy attitude withered away to the invisible hurricane coursing through his body. He did not know what to say, but stuffed his hands into his pockets and shuffled next to her in silence.

Nico di Angelo was the bane of his existence. A skinny kid with no sense of self-preservation, a mean streak, and a death wish. And he had someone looking after him. A girl who was shorter than him, wearing a shirt that was wearing a familiar shirt. Nico’s shirt to be exact. His color paled at the implication and he tried not to gag on his own distress.

“Are you okay?” she asked after a while. He nodded stiffly.

“Yeah, just got lost in my head.” He had to get away from her now, if he was going to keep his sanity. They were close to the Zeus Cabin and he would be relieved of her presence. The air was heavy, closing in on him. But he couldn’t be rude, she didn’t know. “Say, I recognize the tee-shirt.” Why did he open his big, stupid mouth?

“Oh,” she stared at her shirt with a soft smile. “Yeah, mine were destroyed so I took one of Nico’s. And the Hades cabin isn’t close to the other cabins at all, so I couldn’t go ask Piper. I mean I could have, but I sorta crashed when I finally went there. He won’t mind, I doubt. ”

He was seeing bright red, murderous red. His breaths were emptying out his lungs too quick, inhaling was failing him. She…she spent the night in his cabin. His strides were a little longer until he reached the door of the Poseidon cabin. He put on a ~~fake~~ cheery smile, flashing her with bright teeth.

“Well this is the Poseidon Cabin,” he started. “Oh, and send the rest of the Seven to the infirmary, none of them got examined for injuries yesterday.” She gave him a dimpled grin.

“I will. Get rest Will.”

He marched away, heart crumbling with every step. Will could not hate her. She was too nice, too small, too innocent looking, and she was _his._ As soon as he reached the Apollo Cabin door, he burst in. Kayla was sitting up on her bed and stared at him, a frown gracing her features.

“What happened?”

“I hate this curse.” And he threw his head into the pillow.

…

There was a soft knock at the door and Annabeth groaned, burying her head deeper into Percy’s pillow. Unfortunately, she had stuck her face on a puddle of drool, which she wiped off irritated and moved her head onto his chest instead. The knocking was a little louder and she wanted to scream _Go Away._ Percy, who usually slept like the dead, huffed and his feet hit the ground, pounding towards the door.

“Percy,” she heard Hazel say and her boyfriend released a shuddered breath.

“Hey, Hazel,” Annabeth turned from her position on the bed. Percy’s back was to her, but she could see them hugging.

“Let the girl in or else everyone is going to see this pigsty.” Hazel started when she heard the sleep-filled voice of Annabeth coming from underneath the blue sheets. She watched the poor girl turn back and forth between the two of them and their mused states of appearance. Hazel fanned her face rapidly and blushed, eventually hiding her face behind her hands.

“Oh, I’m interrupting something.” She mumbled and Percy laughed. His head was thrown back, but after his episode last night, his raucous laughter was enough to make Annabeth giggle too.

“We were just sleeping.” Percy shook his head. “Between you and Frank, people are really going to believe we’re having incredibly voyeuristic sex.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Annabeth and she lobbed a pillow at his head. The plush item hit his arm with a dull thud and landed on the floor.

“I am so sorry.” Hazel squeaked, blushing even harder.

“Stop teasing her, Seaweed Brain, you’re going to turn her into a tomato. Morning Hazel, it’s actually quite early. Breakfast doesn’t start for a bit.” Annabeth yawned. Hazel smiled sheepishly, grabbing the Finding Nemo pillow off the ground and putting it back in Percy’s arms.

“Well, I wanted to know if we could have breakfast together. I just wanted to spend some time together before the other campers descend on us.”

“Yeah, sounds cool.” Percy said.

“Alright. I have to go tell the others and get Reyna and Frank from the Roman tents. Then, I can wake up Nico.”

“I forgot that kid sleeps like the dead.”

Hazel shook her head. “He finally went to sleep almost forty minutes ago. He spent most of the night helping me sleep and his insomnia is acting up again. I’m going to get the others and let you two get ready.” She gave another shy smile as Percy frowned. Annabeth rose from her position on the bed and came to stand next to her boyfriend. She got a better look at him, the bags underneath his eyes and his shoulders were drooping almost imperceptibly. He looked horrible, like he was carrying the weight of the world on those muscled shoulders, and Annabeth pushed down the urge to drag him to the corner of the world and get away from all this.

Hazel gave them both brief hugs and rushed out the door. The minute she did, Percy crumpled against her, head pushing into her chest. Annabeth stroked his hair and kissed his forehead.

“Need a minute?” she asked. Percy shook his head.

“Naw. I’m just—I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t have a handle on myself and I’m sorry.” She placed a single finger over his parched lips.

“Don’t apologize for anything. You did nothing wrong. In fact, I’m glad you got it off your chest.” She replaced her finger with her lips. “I need to head back to my cabin to get ready, but you need to take a shower, put on a fresh pair of clothes, and brush your teeth before I come back.” She gave him a steely look, and he nodded, his breath leaving him. Annabeth brushed her lips against his again and headed out the door.

The camp was barely awake, not that it mattered to her. No, it mattered that whenever she was pressed against Percy, her nightmares went away. She could breathe; sleep, in peace unlike anything else in her life. She could feel Tartarus spreading through her body, like a vile poison trying to reach her heart. Her heart remained untainted, but her mind did not.

It had been a long night, disastrous in any terms of speaking. Her shirt was still damp from where Percy’s tears had fallen into her shirt. He had even cried in his sleep, crying out for his mother and her. With every shuddered breath, her heart broke into pieces for him and yet, she couldn’t give him her all. Not all the comfort he needed, required. Not when she was like this—a fragmented version of herself. She could not assuage his fears if hers were knocking on the very same door, demanding entrance to destroy her very soul. She was a hair’s breadth away from losing her grip on reality. She was out of Tartarus, she was free, but there remained a shadow just lurking; it was waiting to drag her back, kicking and screaming into the unmistakable darkness that lingered in the corners of her mind.

She opened the door to the Athena cabin and let the door close behind her. Malcolm sat in a chair, just staring at her entering the front door.  His gray eyes locked on hers and his lips turned down into a nasty scowl.

“You’re back.” He whispered and let his hands run through her matted hair. He pulled her into a tight hug and she hugged him back. “I waited up for you to come in last night, but you didn’t show.”

"I had some affairs to take care of first.” She responded nonchalantly and let go of him. She sidestepped him to head to the area where her siblings were still sleeping. “How was the camp while I was gone?”

“Just peachy.” He spat. Annabeth turned around, fixing him with a glare.

"Is there a problem, Malcolm? I would surely hope not, for your sake.” She raised a pointed eyebrow. Annabeth had seen Malcolm irritated, petulant, but not enraged. Not by her presence to say the least.

“Are the others more important?” he asked, stepping in front of her. He was only an inch taller, but Annabeth looked down on him with an impassive glance.

“I just finished a quest in Greece. If you want to have an argument, you’ll have to wait.”

“So your siblings aren’t as important as the Seven.” He scoffed. “That’s pathetic.”

Annabeth crossed her arms. “What are you talking about?”

"When Percy went missing, you started disappearing too. And, I don’t mean just mentally, but physically and emotionally as well. You devoted all your time to finding him and I watched you for months…you were fanatical. You refused to eat, sleep, to distract yourself with any activity that wasn’t him. You snuck off to his cabin at night to cry and you would come back in the morning to work on finishing the Argo II so you could get him back.” He shook his head.

Annabeth said nothing, betrayed nothing with her face. She just stared at him; she wouldn’t let Malcolm use Percy against her. What he was trying to attain from this conversation, she had no clue. The daughter of Athena merely shrugged and continued grabbing clothes.

“Annabeth, you stand here tall, thinking you’re okay because you have him again. But you fail to realize that he isn’t the one you need to look out for. The younger ones barely remember the last time you played with them, the others are worried you can’t handle being a girlfriend and a cabin counselor. Not to mention, you are always off disappearing or almost dying following that boyfriend around the damn world for quests. You came back yesterday and none of us even got the chance to say hello or reconnect at all.” He accused.

“I can’t waste my time with this. I’ll be around after breakfast.” She kept her voice controlled, but Malcolm had hit his mark. She felt slapped in the face. Had she truly treated her family that way?

“No, we need to have this conversation now. I need to ask you a question: Are you part of the Seven?” he asked evenly and Annabeth snapped.

“Of course I am part of the Seven.” She hissed back.

"No, the prophecy says seven half-bloods shall answer the call, to storm or fire the world must fall, an oath to keep with a final breath, and foes bear arms to the Doors of Death. So where do you fit in with that equation?” Annabeth bristled, clothes in hand and slapped him across the face. The sound echoed through the cabin and several of her siblings startled awake to Malcolm’s face twist to the side, an angry red handprint on his right cheek.

"How dare you.” Her voice was low, but full of malice. “How dare you say that to me, Malcolm? You don’t know what I went through when I was out there. You don’t know what I had to sacrifice and what I did for our mother. Therefore, you have no right to say anything against me.”

“I have every right.” He seethed. “You made yourself one of the Seven the minute you learned Percy’s place in the prophecy. Any time he has a quest, you make yourself part of the equation, ever since you were twelve years old! I know for a fact that not demigod can merely close the Doors of Death or else you wouldn’t be here now. You don’t cause storms. Gods, every time Percy does something, you have to do it with him. If he jumped off a cliff, would you follow?”

"You know the answer to that.” She didn’t take a breath. She knows where her heart lies, where her head is, and he was not going to question her loyalty to Percy or her cabin. “He had done it for me and I would do it for him in a heartbeat.”

"Then you don’t have any sense, maybe just a death wish.” Malcolm muttered. “Okay Annabeth, enjoy your time with the Seven, but remember, you did not have to suffer. You chose to.”

"If I didn’t, who would?” she challenge, not expecting him to answer.

“There are plenty of people who would. You don’t have to risk your life to do it. Forever with that boy isn’t going to make it better or lessen the pain. You’ll just end up hurting again. I saw you when he died the first time and when he disappeared. He’s going to be the death of you.” He said solemnly, eyes downcast and full of anguish. “Annabeth, I love my sister too much to lose you to something like that.”

Annabeth didn’t bother replying, just moving towards the door. The others campers shrank from her, waves of anger seeming radiating off her skin in droves. The blonde touched the knob and opened the door, but looked back at her brother with a bitter expression marring her face.

“If I die, it will be on my own terms Malcolm. And if it is for him or with him, I am sure it will be worth it.”  She shut the door behind her, tears escaping the corner of her eyes. She wiped away the evidence and headed back to Percy’s cabin.

…

_'Come on…trust me.’_ Amongst the darkness, there was an outstretched hand. Tan skin that looked soft to touch.

' _What do we do with you boy? Or rather, what can I do to you?’_ Blurry words and burning flesh.

_'So much sorrow and pain. You are so perfect.’_ A curse of unimaginable agony and yet, a simple chuckle could be heard—memories of braided hair, green grass, and warm baking bread.

‘ _Come with me…You know you want to.’_ A gentle touch and then a tight grip, the wince of pain and whimpers of a trebled range.

‘ _Look at what you are! Do you truly believe you deserve a reprieve?’_ A quiet answer. Running and echoing sounds of boots hitting solid rock and the hisses of aching bones.

‘ _We don’t get pretty things often do we? If you want to leave, you have to do something. Alas, what are you willing to give me in exchange?’_ A gleeful smile, a responding glance and a vacant stare. Eerie chills and black eyes.

‘ _Don’t you love me? I though you love me! Why would you let me die?’_ Claws ripping into flesh and bone with a hunger and a stabbing pain, but welcomed like the whistling wind. Singing before a shrill scream pierced the air.

_'Why can’t you love me? I am willing to die for you, but you won’t love me. I guess I will have to make you, my sweet.’_ The ripping of cloth. The slow drag and a pair of illuminated emerald eyes and large white teeth. He had to get out!

…

“Hey,” Piper smiled against her boyfriend’s chest. Jason blinked blearily and stared at her face before relaxing and giving her a small smile.

“Hi,” he kissed the top of her head. “How are you feeling about it?”

She thought about it. She would never truly recover from his death. The fact was as stanch as her conviction that they would have made it through together. Her unwavering faith had turned out to be the precursor to their downfall. She had placed too much stock in those she believed to be stout and formidable forces, to learn last minute they were just as fallible as well and it brought on more pain than she could bare. Yet, she could blame no one. Some deaths could not be prevented, no matter how much you try to change the circumstances. Apparently, she did not answer fast enough, because Jason worriedly rolled her over and held her hands.

“I shouldn’t have asked. I am sorry. I—“

“It’s fine, Sparky. I was just thinking. I’m fine.” She patted his hair and pulled down his glasses, giggling at the sight. “I have to get use to you looking like Clark Kent with your glasses on.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You know, I still don’t completely understand those references.”

 “Well, maybe I should teach you.” His cheeks turned pink and she slapped his arm. He laughed and kissed her cheek.

There was a brief moment of silence between them, encompassing only the shortest period of calm from whatever demon was sitting in the corner, waiting for them. Piper didn’t like to dwell on the ghosts hiding in her closet. And Jason, he just loved to play therapist. He would drag her true feeling out of her eventually.

Piper gazed into his eyes, but Jason seemed a little distant since yesterday. Electric blue pupils focused over her head, staring at the soft whitish clouds in the sky. He was thinking deeply about something; his lips were thin, a crease formed on his otherwise smooth forehead, and his scar twitched slightly.

“What are you thin—“

“Go out with me. Let’s have a date, this Friday.” He cut her off and she looked at him, surprise evident in her eyes. Was the date a distraction or an honest attempt to build their relationship? A first date, which was something they never had the pleasure of experiencing. She swallowed down her suspicions, _please just let me have this_ , and kissed him.

“Yes.” A blissful smile spread across his lips and she smothered the urge to kiss him again.

“JASON!” A loud shout broke the two apart and they looked over the top of the roof to see Hazel wave up at them. Jason lifted Piper into his arms, bridal style and made a steady descent down to the steps of Cabin One.

“What is it with you guys all sleeping together today?” Hazel shook her head. “Doesn’t anyone go to their own beds in this century?”

“Gosh, Hazel, someone woke on the wrong side of bed today.” Piper joked as Jason set her down.

“I did not.” She replied hotly. “Why were you guys on the roof, anyway?”

“We watched the stars.” Jason smiled. “Nothing inappropriate, you can calm down.”

Hazel blushed and pushed a stray curl out of her face. “I was going to invite you both to breakfast.  Percy and Annabeth are going with us. I have to head over to the Roman camp and get Reyna and Frank, but you are welcome to walk with me.”

“Yeah, we showered last night and changed. I wanted to say hi to my siblings after not seeing them for so long.” Piper gave her a small smile. Hazel was a sweet girl, considerate beyond definition.

“Did Percy give you a tour last night?” Jason asked politely as they walked between cabins.

“No, I took a walk with Will Solace from the Apollo Cabin.”

“Oh, Solace was awake.  I forgot the Apollo kids wake with the sun.” Piper commented.

“He said he pulled an all-nighter at the infirmary. He wants us to stop by later to check on our health.”

What could Will Solace possibly tell her about her health? Absolutely nothing she did not already know. Sure, the infirmary was a good place to go for the bruises covering their bodies, but their mental health. There was nothing to monitor that, except for a shrink. Last time Piper checked, there was a shortage of camp shrinks that knew how to deal with grief and adventures in hell for Percy and Annabeth.

She kept her mouth shut about her opinion. Her bones ached in certain places, strange blue and purple bruises covering her skin. She almost startled when they continued walking past the arena. The additional cabins were closer to the original twelve, but now they were past that point.

“Where are we going?”

“The Romans are camped just ahead and the Hades cabin is up that way.” Therefore, that was why Piper had never seen it during her stay at Camp Half-Blood.

They continued the trek until they reached a large black cabin. Greek fire hung outside on the lanterns, giving off a strange green glow. The door was had a freaky skull on the door and she shuddered. The air was a shocking stale quality, the grass on the ground withered slightly the closer it grew to the cabin. A deathly aura spread out, making Piper nauseous to her stomach.  Hazel gasped.

“Piper and Jason, I need you to continue to the Roman camps and get Reyna and Frank for me. Thanks.” She ran up the steps and opened the door, shutting it immediately behind her.

“That was weird.” Piper was concerned now, but Jason grabbed her hand.

“You go and I will check it out, okay?” Her boyfriend kissed her forehead and started up the steps.

“I love you.” She said before she could help herself.  Piper did not let it sting her when he merely smiled, and did not reply back. Jason opened the door and entered, and Piper let herself walk away before dwelling on his behavior any longer.

…

“ _No, no, no, no_ , NO!” tears leaked desperately from his eyes and Nico shook against it. He was being held down by something heavy, obstructing and his legs would not let him run faster. Soft hands and slightly calloused hands worked to wipe the sweat off his lips, forehead, and blotchy cheeks in a hopeless attempt to remove the sickly sheen that covered his pathetic body.  He cried out again, still feeling the ugly bands of confinement around his body, binding him to the solid rock.

“Please stop!” he sobbed, words slurring as he choked on his tears, spit, and snot.

“Nico, listen to me.” He heard distantly. A sweet voice, like the ones that tormented his dreams.

“I can’t…I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The line became a mindless litany, words enunciated repeatedly as he quivered away from the touch and failed to escape. He didn’t mean to fall asleep. He had been singing before, perhaps in a dream. Was this a dream? He couldn’t tell, but he knew it was the pass. Nico could not remember what he had been doing, what had transpired before he landed in the dead space he remembered staring at the rows and rows of burning pyres. Unless that was what he saw, did he see more or less? The hands landed back on his skin and he was ~~yanked~~ manhandled out, but his legs were stuck. His arms were free though and he pushed back with what meager strength he had.

“Nico, stop. It is me. It’s Hazel.” The voice insisted; the feminine sounded closer than before and more unlike the ones from his mind. He fought the urge to panic, still feeling hands on him. “It’s Hazel. We’re in Camp Half-Blood and we are safe in the Hades Cabin. I’m going to put my hand in yours, okay?” He vaguely felt smooth hands grasping his. His eyes opened a little and he saw a girl with curly dark hair and quivering lips, shaking with every tear that trailed down her cheeks. He raised his hand to brush away the falling tears and his heart twitches a little. Why did the dark skin feel so familiar, yet so alien? He should know it, especially if she was touching him. But he turns his head and sees something blonde and that settles it. Nico turns his head back to the crying girl.

“Don’t cry. I won’t struggle. I promise I’ll be good.” He closes his eyes again. His captor can do what she wants, change into all the skins he knows and his position won’t change. He will still be strapped down. Despite this, he still kicks.

“Hazel, he is burning up.”

“Remove the blanket from his legs.”

“What?”

“Just do it! He thinks he is trapped. He’s tangled in the sheets and the more he struggles, the longer he will be caught in a flashback.” Suddenly the weight was removed from his legs and he could breathe.

 His breaths are quick and his eyes shoot open. Gasping open where his pupils are blown wide and he can’t see anything but endless darkness. He lets out a scream. He’s free. What does it matter if he cannot see? They can no longer touch him.

“We have to tell someone about this. We have to get Percy or Annabeth.” The name made him jump like he should it as well. Faintly, he could feel the tug in his gut, his mind working to provide images of a taller man with sea-green eyes and dread pooled in his stomach at the thought. The image was replaced with black mist and those same eyes falling away from him with a predatory glance.

“No,” the miserable sound broke through his lips before he could stop himself. He reached out and grabbed the girl, bringing his head to her chest, little pleas and begs spilling from his lips. “Stay please. I don’t want to go back to them. Please!” His knuckles were white and she openly wept at the helpless boy in front of her. She enveloped his body in her arms, rocking him back and forth.

 Somewhere, during the rocking, when his heart beat settled, Nico returned to himself. He was in the bed, the comforter in a heap on the floor, and red scratches on his legs. Hazel was too busy trying to console him to notice the change in his demeanor and he turned his head a little to see a teary-eyed Jason. Jason had seen this and so had Hazel. He pulled back from her arms and put her head in front of his line of sight.

“I am so sorry, Nico. I broke my promise. Please come back to me, the nightmare is over. We are safe.” A voice in the back of his head mulled over his own, holding back his primary desire to hold her.

“I’m here. I’m here. It’s okay now. I’m sorry I scared you.” He kissed the top of her forehead.

“Does that happen often?” Jason voice was controlled, but his scar was twitching. Nico looked at him with a cold gaze.

 “It is just nightmares. We all have them from time to time.” He answered and pulled himself from the bed. He tumbled almost immediately and held onto the nightstand, his legs shaking. He turned his head and surveyed the damage. The bed was damaged, claw marks in the frame and tears in the sheets. He himself reeked of fear, shame, sweat, and piss. His hair clung to his head, sweat droplets rolling down his body.

“You have never had an episode this bad.” Hazel approached him, palms facing up like she was nearing a wild animal.

“I just need a shower to clean up. You head to breakfast without me. I’ll catch up after I clean this mess.”

“Nico, you can barely stand.” Jason rubbed his temples.

“All I need is a shower.” He huffed. He actually needed a bathroom, all of it. His stomach twisted and distorted, and he suppressed the urge to hurl right then and there in front of them.

“You shower and I will clean this up.” Hazel smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

He nodded, didn’t bother to look at Jason again, and sprinted to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Nico stuck his head into the toilet and heaved into the porcelain throne, little bits of fruit and bile mixing with the water. The air filled with the scent of the sick and diseased and Nico couldn’t agree more. He was sick and diseased, it just a matter of the intensity. When he was done hurling, he went to the sink and washed out his mouth, looking up to see his reflection in the mirror.

 The shorts he had on were covered in sweat and piss, the shirt once soaked in Hazel’s tears was drenched with sweat. His cheekbones were sunken in, his wide eyes disgusted, and his lips cracked and chapped beyond belief. His legs were covered in blood, dried and fresh. His bandages were loose and he could see the infection spreading through the cuts. He should be worried, but he wasn’t. Nico could care less about his abysmal appearance.

He turned the knob on the tub and let it fill to the top. He grabbed the soap, some rags, and peeled off his clothes. He sat in the bottom of the tub and the hot water shocked his body, but he didn’t care. Nico soaked the wash clothes, lathered it with soap and went to work on removing the tingling from his skin. He was disgusting, filthy and he needed to be clean again. Could he be clean? Nyx had warned him he would not return the same after he stayed with her. So far, she was right.

His legs turned an angry pink, as did his chest and neck. Blood sunk to the bottom of the tub and yet, Nico could still see his face in the contents. His body shook and he looked to the mirror. Nico did not want to feel. Feel this or anything like it. So, he dunked his head below the water and prayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So school is kicking my butt. Chemistry is a pain, but my AP US history is mildly entertaining and the high point of my life right now. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who leaves comments and kudos!


	3. An Introduction to Blossoming Flaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The minute the door shut, Hazel set to work. Her hands grasped the damp sheets of the bed and tore them off in a flurry of white, purple and black. She methodically stripped the pillows bare of covering as well, and threw all the soiled items in a bin by the door. She made her way across the room, yanking open another door and pulling out fresh sheets. Her lips were firm in grim determination, her eyes unwavering, and her head held high. Only her quivering hands gave away her anxiety, the rawness of the pain, and the reality that nothing was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Vague mentions of homicidal intentions.
> 
> This chapter is very ambiguous and you have to pay close attention to all the implicit plot lines, which will be brought to the surface of the story later. I cranked out another 8000 word chapter for you and I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> In the note below, I will describe essentially the main plot points.

_Chapter 3: An Introduction to Blossoming Flaws_

  _When the puppet is tired, the puppet does not rest. Not until its master says so. When the puppet is injured, the puppet does not tend to its wounds. It waits for its master to do so. When the puppet is limp and pliable, the master bends it in intricate fashions and holds it fast to his chest. As the puppet is the instrument of play, his master is the instrument to the wielded blade that comes to slice the night. The master has been training to lead. The master has led his entire life and the puppet will always be under his command. The puppet may never break free from the cycle, lest it discovers a mind of its own and become great like its master._

…

Piper made her way over the hill to the white tents littered across the wild green grass. The way Jason pushed her away was disconcerting. He had sent her an uneasy glance; yet, when did his concern for Hazel and Nico overrule his affection for her? Not that Hazel was not a kind girl who they owed greatly for saving their lives continuously; Hazel happened to be the sweetest person she had ever met. No, her brother was something of a conundrum. Ever since Croatia, Jason strived to make that boy his friend, despite his awkward social skills and his deathly aura. The aura seeped from his cabin. If that did not scream ‘Freak’, Piper did not know what did.

She watched the Romans scatter into different sections, the different groups caring for wounded friends. The daughter of Aphrodite avoided interrupting their pattern and wisely sought out one of the campers to inquire about Reyna’s whereabouts. It seemed appropriate to seek her out before Frank. If that mattered to anyone, that would be her rationalization. Piper approached another girl, who was passively admiring the sight in front of her. Her hair was pulled back in an elegant fishtail braid, a few white blond strands hanging in front of her face. Her green eyes coldly attached their gaze upon Piper’s figure and the girl frowned, long nose scrunched up. Her thin lips pursed in disgust and she marched over, face twisted in disdain.

“A Greek, I presume.” She sniffed the air, haughtily. Piper narrowed her eyes.

“I am.” The daughter of Aphrodite crossed her arms over her chest.

“My name is Olivia Collins. I image you are looking for the Praetors. However, neither Jackson nor Grace is in command here and I doubt Ramírez-Arellano will last much longer due to that pathetic stunt she pulled.”

“Your leader did not ‘pull a stunt’,” Piper spat. “She brought peace between two camps in a time of war. I say she made the right call.”

“That may be okay in your eyes, but Greeks and Romans are bitter enemies. One moment of peace cannot erase a few millennia of animosity. Your peace treaty won’t last. I’d die before I work with the very people who killed Octavian.”

“We both know Octavian killed himself with his ambition. No one had to do it for him.” Piper’s lips twisted into a cruel grin.

“No! You and your pathetic graecus friends killed him.” Before the two girls could continue, a loud yell interrupted them.

“Collins, stand down!” Reyna snapped. Her voice conveyed her displeasure with the other woman, but Olivia smirked. “You are supposed to be watching after the wounded.”

“But Praetor, I had to address a perimeter problem. It seems the Greeks can walk in and out of this camp as they please.” Olivia stated innocently, but Reyna glared.

"This is their land. And if anything, we are the trespassing on another’s property, violating the Roman commands. I suggest you go back to Kahale or else we will have a problem.” The girl’s nostrils flared and she began to walk away, but she  
turned around.

"This is not over. Mark my words, I will have you removed from power for betraying the Roman code and I will make sure that you have no influence over the Senate. Your time here is done Reyna and I pray the Greeks will accept you, because you won’t have a place here. You still have to answer for Octavian and Bryce.” The girl stomped off, but Reyna paled. The daughter of Bellona then shook her head, shaking off whatever the comment meant to her.

Reyna turned to Piper with a small sigh and gave her a nod. “I’m not sure how long you were here, but do not let Collins give you a bad rep for the Romans. Most of us are not as traditional.”

"She was making threats against you. Can’t you punish her for something like that?” Reyna sighed again at Piper’s comment.

“Unfortunately, no. I can only deal with the cards they give me and that girl is a wild card. Plus, she is a legacy; her family has too many roots in our history to deracinate an entire ancestry devoted to improve New Rome.” Piper raised an  
inquisitorial eyebrow. “Her family is wealthy. They fund most of the citizens to attend school. Wonderful philanthropists with horrible children.” Reyna shook her head at the irony. Frank came down behind her, purple cloak billowing  
behind him.

“What’s the problem?” Frank asked once he reached them on the plane of green grass.

“She met an unsavory character today.” Reyna sighed once more and gave the two a false smile. “Is there something you needed Piper? I have a lot of paperwork to sort through and not enough hands to assist  
me.”

“Hazel wanted the three of us to eat breakfast together. I know you’ll be busy and everything, but I believe you should take the offer. From what I have seen, you might need the break before the work even begins. Plus, the rest of us might not get to see you that much.”

Piper watched as the thoughts reflected over both Reyna’s and Frank’s faces. Frank looked eager, but torn between his duties at the camp and his desire to spend time with the others. But Reyna’s was more pensive, a look that aged her a few years.  She rubbed her temple and nodded.

“Frank and I can spare some time for breakfast. I need to discuss things with Grace and Jackson.” The Praetor marched ahead without them and Frank exhaled.

 “She’s working herself ragged. It’s taxing on her.” He gave her a grin and the two set out side by side. Frank matched his pace to hers, the two strolling behind a tense daughter of Bellona.

“Who is Olivia exactly? Reyna mentioned that her family was wealthy, but not much else. What threat does she pose?” Frank’s mouth twisted in an ugly sneer, an expression uncommon on his face.

“I’ve never liked her much. She always tried to find ways to thwart Reyna or Jason. Collins was away when Percy came, thankfully, but I guess she’s staying now.”

“Not really answering my question.” The daughter of Aphrodite shook her head.

“Collins is the daughter of a legacy of Janus and directly a daughter of Invidia.” Reyna supplied.

“Who is Invidia?” She asked.

“Invidia is just the Roman name for Nemesis. It just sounds more menacing when you put it that way.”

“Olivia is an oily, two-faced snake and I want her out of my hair.” Reyna ran her hands through her sloppy braid.

“And can’t you put her on probation or something?”

“Not without getting into trouble.” Frank sighed. “Our hands are tied in her case. However, we still have Lola demanding that we release a missing person’s report.”

“Who is missing?” Piper raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and planted her hands on her hips. A low gust swept up around them, bits of grass flying up and whirling around the trio with delicacy. The sudden chill in the air caused her to shiver involuntarily, but she was not the only one.

“Bryce Lawrence,” And after the words fell from Frank’s lips, Reyna spun and rushed forward like a mad woman possessed. She marched over the hill and down towards the Greek camp and Frank and Piper were left trailing in the dust.

…

The minute the door shut, Hazel set to work. Her hands grasped the damp sheets of the bed and tore them off in a flurry of white, purple and black. She methodically stripped the pillows bare of covering as well, and threw all the soiled items in a bin by the door. She made her way across the room, yanking open another door and pulling out fresh sheets. Her lips were firm in grim determination, her eyes unwavering, and her head held high. Only her quivering hands gave away her anxiety, the rawness of the pain, and the reality that nothing was going to be okay.

Jason stood transfixed, still and solid like a sentinel force against whoever might come through the door behind him. He dared not move, breathe too quickly, or do any subtle motion that would upset the fragile balance crumbling in the existing space between them. Hazel’s hands continued to shake and he found himself watching the microscopic movements with critical intensity. The movements telegraphed everything he needed to know.

Hazel was waiting for him to pass judgment on her. As unfair a thought as he believed, he could see where she was coming from. He remembered the shaking pale thighs of a boy too skinny, the wetness and sweat co-mingling on the upper lip, and the faraway stare that worked its way into Jason’s permanent memories. She was waiting for the former Praetor to judge her on all accounts, as if she had failed her duties as a caretaker and a sibling. As if she had neglected some sacred act and violated a binding contract, revealing her secrets to another in an unfashionable form. Yet, Jason could not fault her. The image was cemented in his brain, like frozen ice, and he could not shake the terror he felt watching the boy squirm away from invisible hands. Nico had been dealing with this for a while; and being a good person, Jason wanted to help. But in order to help, he needed to know how. It was just a matter of how long, how long he had ignored a comrade’s needs.

“How long?” He croaked out, voice dull and cracking, piercing the thin veil of quiet that surrounded them. Hazel ignored him, preferring to bask in the perpetual silence and digging her unsteady fingers between the mattresses to add the first sheet. Jason moved, bones protesting after leaving his statuesque form, and aided her on the other side, smoothing out the infinitesimal wrinkles. When she finished, she paused and stared at the bed.

“How long, Hazel? How long has this been going on?” Barely louder than a whisper, Jason conveyed the sincerity, his eyes pleading _let me help_ , but the girl remained unfazed. He came to her side and engulfed her smaller hands in his larger ones, the delicacy not lost as he bowed in front of her. She refused to look at him again, staring at the bed before turning her head to the bathroom door.

“What does it matter?” The daughter of Pluto asked, the words almost lost in the sudden echo of pipes pumping water. Her voice was deceptively soft, a certain cadence of ancient Creole seeping through her lips, carried over by the rapid beat of her heart. If anything, Jason thought, Hazel looked weary, fretfully at the door. The piece of wood separated her from the most emotionally unstable person she knew, but also held her away from her rock and her brother. The worry on her face, coupled with the fact that she was being anchored by his presence, made Hazel appear fragile, like a china doll, limp and pliable in his arms.

“It matters because I want to help.” Hazel muffled a laugh and shook her head. It was not an airy, bubbly laugh, but a raucous noise that had clawed its way out of her throat.

“You really want to help, Jason?” She inquired, lifting herself from her position on the bed. “When he comes out the bathroom, everything that happed in the last fifteen minutes did not happen. That is the best way to help.” She shook her head bitterly.

“Ignoring the elephant in the room is not going to solve it. Deflection is never the best recourse and your brother is not going to recover if we push it aside. You do want him to get better, don’t you?” He rose with the words. From the bits of his past that he could remember, Jason knew that men went crazy when the proper attention was focused to their needs. Some became catatonic, living every day as a shell and husk. Others were depressed, and a select few ended their lives to cope with whatever mental ailment they had. She reacted in a flash, turning back to him, knuckles tightened and stretched over smooth chocolate skin as her hands balled into fists and her eyes radiated with fire and ire.

“You think I don’t want him to get better? Do you know what it feels like to have someone treat you like a stranger when they can’t remember where they are? Do you know what it is like forcing someone to sleep and eat, just perform basic functions, because on certain days they forget how to care for themselves? Do you know what it is like to spend mornings convincing someone that you are their sister and you would never hurt them like someone else did? And he cries out every time I touch him and…”Her voice broke off toward the end, tears falling down her face.

Jason was speechless, and it pained him. He put her words into perspective, and no, he did not have experience with someone not remembering him, but Piper did. However, Piper did not have experience with someone being afraid of them and of every physical interaction. But, Jason could not just let this go. Hazel was only thirteen: she did not have to handle the burden alone and crumble under its weight. He could help her, he would help her, in any capacity she needed; in any capacity that Nico needed, he would help too. The son of Jupiter had sworn that he would help the younger demigods—why not start now?

“I am not saying this as a leader, but as a friend and a fellow demigod. I want to help him more than you know, Hazel, and if you’ll accept, I want to help you, too. I know Reyna would want to as well.” He pulled her into another hug as she began to sob, strident noises that were too sharp and piercing in the quiet cabin. Hazel curled into his arms and he rocked her as she cried. “Shh, it is okay. You’re okay.”

Jason patted her back; the very tactile person he was could not stop him from giving her the small comforts. He stroked the soft length of curls, brushed away tears, and held onto the tiny girl currently falling apart in his arms. Jason would supply those comforts any time Hazel needed them, but for now, Hazel pulled away and they mutually settled for one last hug. After a while, once the hiccupping ended, she moved her head onto his shoulder.

“He started having nightmares after we lost Percy and Annabeth. He would…lose himself in his head for hours at a time in the middle of the night. Nico…he… I would give him space and he would come out of it after a few hours. I thought it was his way of reconnecting to the real world. But, after you came back from Croatia, the nightmares have been getting worse and he’s not resting. He’s been forcefully keeping ‘hem at bay by suffering from sleep-deprived comas and over-exerting his powers.” She took a deep breath before leveling him was a serious faze. The golden irises met his blue for a flash before turning back to the door. “I rushed back here because I forgot I was supposed to make sure he was sleeping on intervals. He was stuck in it too long.”

“I can’t do it on my own.” Hazel admitted tersely. “But you have to promise you cannot tell anyone. Not Percy, not Reyna, no one. If they know, they might take him from me and I can’t lose him.” She implored. Jason reeled away. _Who was going to take Nico?_

“No one is going to take Nico away. I’ll make sure of that.” Hazel gave him a grateful smile before a loud pounding sound interrupted the cabin. They both turned immediately to the door. The pounding sounded again.

“Nico! We need to talk.” Reyna’s voice echoed. Jason shared a confused glance with Hazel. The other girl rose to open it, but he shook his head.

“I got it. Just wipe off your face.” He said gently and rose to open the door. The minute the door opened, Reyna pushed through, followed closely by Frank and Piper.

“Where’s di Angelo?” She asked impatiently.

“Hold on, what’s wrong?” He tried to ask, but she shook her head.

“It does not concern you. But it does concern the son of Hades, so if he would just—“

“My brother happens to be in the bathroom. You can wait on the couch if you must.” Hazel pointed at a purple couch resting in the corner of the cabin by the window.       

“Hazel, what happened?” Frank asked, concerned as he saw the dried tear tracks on her face. He sent Jason a glare, who decided to politely raise his hands in defense.

“No, don’t blame Jason. I was just stressed and he was a good shoulder to cry on.” She wiped at her eyes. Then, shyly, the daughter of Pluto reached out and grabbed Frank’s hands, giving him a small beam. During the display, Reyna seated herself on the couch whilst Piper made her way across from the door and into his line of sight.

He reached out, hands around her waist and she leaned in for the hug. Jason had to be stronger, for her and all of their friends. She gave him a calculated look _what am I missing?_ To which he shook his head to communicate _don’t worry about it._ So he watched as his girlfriend tried a different approach.

“This place is interesting.” She said with false politeness. Yes, Jason knew the design of the Hades cabin was crude and the furniture was an odd collection of gothic pieces and modern chic. “A bit creepy don’t you think? Who designed it?” She gave him another rude eye when he returned her stare with one of disappointment and disbelief. If she wanted his attention, she did not have to make a scene here in front of their friends. However, before he could respond, he was interrupted by the opening of the bathroom door.

“I’ll thank the interior designer when I meet him.” Came the snippy reply from behind the door. “I only built the cabin from the ground up. However, I heard your cabin designed it. I only added the couch.” Piper jumped.

“Nico,” Hazel bounded over to the door. “Are you okay in there? It’s been a while.” There was no reply to this question, just a turn of a lock and the door opened. Nico stepped out, black tendrils of hair soaking wet and dripping over his equally dark ensemble. It was a consistent look of a long sleeved black shirt, black jeans, and a pair of combat boots with a dagger sticking out of the top. The teen gave them all a blank look.

“I’m sorry I took so long. I was…indecent.” Lips twisted into a strange line until Hazel enveloped him in a warm hug.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” His features softened and he huffed, but kissed her head regardless before turning his attention to the rest of them.

“I did not know we were having a party.” Nico narrowed is eyes. The earlier soft tone was replaced a cool voice, dripping with cold origins and unhappy promises.

“I just wanted to make sure you were feeling better before I left.” Jason neither expounds nor explains the real reason, yet the other demigod just nods his head as if he understands.

“Well, I’ve never felt better.” His eyes sparkled with heartless mirth and a bitter laugh fell from his mouth, the acrimonious feeling spreading with the dark shadows around his feet and under his eye lids. “To be honest, I could have slept a little longer, but with all these people here, I guess I’ll hold off.” He yawned then, raising his arms in the air as he did and a single sleeve fell down a bit, revealing tightly bandaged skin. The cloth was white, but if Jason examined closely, he could see the yellow tinge beneath. It didn’t look healthy. Reyna scoffed.

“We will meet up with you at breakfast. I need to have a private conversation with him and I can’t have it if you are all here.” The teen was annoyed and she pulled the smaller one next to her. He shot her a glare before turning to meet his sister’s gaze and then Jason’s. It held for a second before falling to the floor.

“And what is so urgent this time Reyna.” He looked disinterested before meeting the Praetor’s gaze.

“It’s an important matter.” She insisted.

 “Nothing is that important.” He grumbled.         

“South Carolina,” she said and Nico stopped, looking at her now with an unabashed intensity. This exchange was not tender, simplistic, or even remotely reminiscent of the actions between Hazel and her brother. No the two drew forward, their conversation stemming into a whispered quality of foreign words. Jason felt as though he was intruding, except he wasn’t. He was genuinely concerned. Staring at Frank’s face, he could tell this conversation was not of pleasantries and consolations; it was a conversation of mendacities and hidden trues, woven under the cover of incessant Spanish tongue. Nico turned to them and waved his hand, the door opening with a single command.

“You need to leave.” He was staring, focusing on Reyna’s face, which had gone a paler sheet as she continued.

“No, I want to know what is going on.” Hazel spat the words out, not expecting her brother to let out a frustrated groan and stand up.

“This does not concern you. Whatever private business remains between Reyna and I stays between Reyna and I. I will see you later, but not right now.” He breathed heavily and Hazel shook her head.

“I am giving you thirty minutes. If you have not reached the pavilion by then, I will come back and drag you by your ears to breakfast. Then we will go together to see Will Solace. He said he wanted to check each of us today to make sure we did not have an unknown injury.” Hazel stomped to the door, followed closely by Frank, Piper and Jason until a small voice called out.

“Solace said that?” Nico questioned.

“Yeah,” Hazel’s brows knit with confusion.

“Figures,” Nico wrinkled his nose as he muttered the words darkly. The sunshine was washing over them, but Jason could not feel it above the cold seeping out of the other boy’s body, radiating some malice feeling that Jason could not comprehend. The door slammed with incredible force, releasing the sound of a bang before silencing in the quiet day.

“What the hell?” Piper asked him and Jason shook his head. “What was that all about?”

“My brother is difficult in the morning, if you are asking about his attitude. But, as for Reyna, I don’t know what they’re up to.” Hazel shrugged. Frank, however, turned his attention over to the dozen of campers milling about outside of their cabins.

“Nico is helping Reyna with the treaty. Besides you and Percy, he is the only one who knows the most about both camps. And they have grown close. I think Reyna needs his input for something.” Jason could tell that Frank was holding something back. The Asian teen stood tall, but his eyes were focused on the green grass of the camp.

“Is that all?” Hazel asked, worrying her bottom lip.

“Yes,” Frank was lying and Jason was going to find out why.

Instead of focusing on his friend’s prevarication, the group departed from the cool wood of the Hades Cabin to the golden light of the sun and the rich smell of wet dew. Different campers trudged around in the post-dawn period, some idly waddling in a sleepy haze and others purposely treading and weaving through a despondent crowd, carrying creates full of items—bandages, medicines, clothes—to the infirmary. Even the Roman campers had infiltrated, milling around and keeping their eyes on the Greeks with obvious suspicions. Others helped the Apollo kids carry their heavy loads over the wet ground. Some made their way to the dining hall. Even in its glum mood, Camp Half-Blood as alive with energy.

No matter the cause or situation, Jason decided he liked it. The group continued to the pavilion, watching some sat at tables and interacted with their Greek siblings. The pavilion was loud, amplified by the elegant Greek architecture, forcing sounds to echo and rebound off the pillars. The occupants in the vicinity were spread diversely, some Romans sitting with their Greek half-siblings and others choosing to reside at tables farther off. However, the minute they passed under eh archway, into the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, the area quieted. Not a soul spoke as part of the remaining Seven made their way across the table. Eyes followed their every step and Jason felt his skin crawl at the intensity. He was used to being watched, but he was not used to being dissected by every person in one room.

The day had barely started, and Jason was already feeling the brunt of the weight. Even in the morning, when most minds were supposed to be slow and relatively inactive, the youngest of campers had found a new subject of interest—them. Like they weren’t people, but spectacles on display. He let out a resigned sigh and kissed Piper’s forehead, breathing in the scent of her hair. This would be over soon, he promised, no lied to himself. He would permit himself to listen to the folly, because who was Jason kidding. For people like him and his friends, for the heroes, it would never be over.

…

When he exited the shower, just in a towel, Percy saw Annabeth first, the redness of her eyes and the paleness of her skin. She was suspiciously quiet, slightly withdrawn, and rage filled him. Something had happened to her while he was in the shower, and for Annabeth to be so closed off, it must have been painful. So, like a dutiful boyfriend, Percy wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his face to her damp hair.

“How are you feeling?” Annabeth asked. “Did you calm down some with your shower?”

Percy made a noncommittal grunt. He did not want to discuss how the water trailing down his back had led to a panic attack. How he had busted the pipes, lashing out against the very element that made him feel safe. He merely kissed her soft lips softly and pulled away.

“I’m more worried about you.” She leaned into his chest and rested her head on his collar bone. The wet hair brushed his skin and he shivered. Percy reclined more on his bed to give her space and Annabeth sighed.

“I got into an argument with Malcolm.” She turned her head to face him. “He thinks you’re not good enough for me.”

Percy snorted. “Isn’t it your brother’s job to think those things?”

“I told him I would die for you.” She continued nonplussed.

A tug jerked in Percy’s stomach and he looked at her, a mixture of disbelief and awe. She was amazing, his Wise-girl. Annabeth declared loyalty to him over her family and he could feel himself, feel the blood racing in his veins as Percy took her into his arms and pressed kisses up and down her face. They made an awkward pair, the towel shifting down his waist and lower on his lips and she was dressed in camp attire. He pulled away and placed his cheek on top of her forehead.

“You didn’t need to swear yourself to me.”

“Of course I didn’t.” She turned fully and sat on his lap, the towel dangerously low. Annabeth pressed her lips against his once and leaned away, taking his face into her palms. He stared at her, beseeching with large green eyes that bore into her silver ones. “I chose to because I love you and no one is going to question my intentions to be with you.”

“I love you.” _I want you_ is what he meant. _I need you. I promise to give you everything you want, anything you need._ Just those three words and the depths of his feelings were conveyed. Sparkling green eyes promised Annabeth the world if she asked for it. The sun, if she pleaded for it. More than his soul if she required it.

The weight of his words felt heavy, but relieving. Annabeth understood, from the way her eyes lowered and came back up, tears welling. The air was thick with something. Not the scent of old tomes and seawater. Instead, it was a fire, a burn brewing in the pit of his stomach that made his legs feel tingly. Percy stroked her hair and enwrapped her in his arms once more. He was not letting her go.

“Percy, promise me.” She whispered.

“I promise.” And it felt as if he had given her his soul, entrusted her with the one thing that made him unique. With all the craziness from the war and the madness that ensued, this felt like the one real thing he had. And Percy was going to protect and keep it safe, even if it killed him. Entrenched in this feeling, whatever it was did not let the pair move for a while. They sat together, basking in some unspoken agreement. They were tied now, forever, in that precious moment and Percy refused to interrupt it. However, after minutes of not moving, Annabeth pulled him to his feet and forced him to get dressed.

The walk to breakfast was not a sordid affair. He stayed attached to her, not holding back on affection with the brush and entanglement of fingers. Implicit conversation passed through the light finger touches and unexpressed pleasures brought smiles to their faces. When they entered the pavilion, it had been silent, before the Greeks erupted into loud applause. And Percy was jolted from whatever fantasy they had been immersed in.

He looked over to the Big Table, where Chiron sat, looking grave and pensive, aging the ancient centaur centuries. He could feel the Athena cabin glaring daggers into his back and he shrugged off their hostility. Annabeth was still Cabin Counselor, but she was sitting with him now. He looked over and could see Frank, Hazel, Piper and Jason sitting at Cabin One’s table. So like any rebellious teenager, he ran over to the table and planted himself beside Jason. He could hear Annabeth laughing, and he threw his arm around a shocked Jason Grace’s shoulders.

“Hey bro!” He almost yelled above the noise in the pavilion. People were actually speaking now, but in hushed chatter. Nonetheless, the words carried over. About how Percy was back, and Annabeth was as well. How Jason had come back to the Greek camp with Romans. The Romans had invaded the camp. Why were they all sitting together? Percy ignored their mindless chatter and turned to the rest of his friends. Annabeth sat next to him.

“Where were you guys?” Jason asked.

 “Cuddling,” , “Talking,” they answered at the same time. Piper laughed at them once, but breakfast descended into silence. It was as if no one had anything to say. And then he noticed. Neither Piper nor Annabeth were sitting with their family. He had known that Annabeth would not join them for a while, but Piper had not seen her family in a long time. To be honest, their little group looked down. Frank, Hazel, and Jason were focused on consuming their breakfast, Jason’s eyes anxiously scanning the dining hall’s entrance. The son of Jupiter was waiting for something or someone, which did not make the situation any better. Piper was staring at her boyfriend and the mood only worsened. Not one individual at the urge to speak for the fear of disrupting some truth. It was too quiet now, immediately after his time with Annabeth and now he had been launched into a minefield. He couldn’t tell them why he was feeling afraid now, sitting in the silence. How, if he closed his eyes, he could hear the blood running their veins, itching to be extracted, his own urge to push his abilities and see how much matter he could manipulate. Percy shuddered. He would not do that. Not to anyone. Annabeth must have noticed his discomfort, and broke the silence, in a way she knew best.

“Of all the years I have known you, I guess I should be used to blue coke now.” She questioned and he dared to laugh aloud. The sound was sloppy and weak, but Jason sent him a strained smile. Jason was not convinced, which meant the others were not as well, but Annabeth was putting in the effort and that was the only thing that matter.

 “You know we’re breaking camp rules, right?” Piper interjected and Percy grinned back, feeling nauseous. Perhaps it was because he had not eaten in hours or that he needed to shut his mind off. Percy tucked Annabeth under his arm and drank his blue drink, relishing in the taste of home and breathing in the scent of clean soap and old textbooks. It was her unique smell and it never calmed him more. He kissed her cheek.

"Love you, Wise Girl.” Annabeth plucked his forehead and they laughed, genuine this time. Hazel fanned herself and Frank looked away in order to seem less invasive. Piper grinned liked a fool, but Jason didn’t bother to stare at them. Instead, his gaze focused on an angry pair entering the pavilion. Reyna was staring passively head, her eyes narrowed. Nico was by her side, mutely shaking with unmatched fury and glaring at the Praetor every step of the way. However, before Percy could ponder what had occurred between them, he heard the yells.

 “Percy!” A shrill laugh followed the call and there was thudding footsteps. Percy stood and turned when he was tackled by a happy Rachel Elizabeth Dare. The redhead hugged him tightly, crying out in relief. She was followed by his oldest friend, Grover Underwood, who enwrapped him in a larger hug and his girlfriend, Juniper, ended the line. Annabeth was given the same treatment, crushed in the hugs from old friends.

“Hey guys.” Percy laughed after the onslaught only to be slugged in the shoulder by Rachel.

“Oh Gods, I am so glad that you are both safe. I was so worried and I didn’t know…” Rachel finished her blubbering.

“You can’t go disappearing in the middle of the night like that.” Grover continued. “Do you know how much I worried about you? The entire camp was worried about your safety.”

“He was especially worried. He ate almost thirty cans every day.” Juniper kissed Percy’s cheek. “I’m glad you are back and safe again.”

_Safe._ Yes, he was safe. Safe from what? Certainly not himself, or no one was safe. He was not okay, he could not be okay. Percy didn’t check his reflection this morning, the water feeling too similar to his near-drowning incident, relishing control of his life to Annabeth. The son of Poseidon had done a quick wash, anything to remove the feel of water from his bones. He wanted to cry now, but he would not.

"That means a lot to me guys. We need to catch up.” Grover nodded.

“More importantly, we have to go see your mother. She has something very imp—“Grover was cut off by the raucous campers were causing. Many had risen from their seats and were making their way to the greenery.

“What’s going on?” Hazel asked curiously.

“A god is here.” And Grover made his way outside, Percy and his friends following closely behind. None of them noticed how Jason turned white the minute they stepped foot outside to see the commotion. No, the first thing that Percy saw was the white feathers falling to the ground.

…

Reyna stared at him and Nico stared back. The air was thick and heavy between them, promises equally weighting in the stale cabin air. Reyna maintained a cerain air of dignity while her co-conspirator took the time to process the information she shared with him. He had looked less than perplexed and eased on the couch when his sister moved a considerable distance away.

“What do you want me to say, Reyna?” He sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

“We did not plan for a reaction so soon.” She glanced at him. “Do you think we can just forget about this? Collins is going to rally enough support to get the Senate to launch a full investigation.”

“What can they do to us? To you? There is no proof that we ever interacted.”

“The Senate will call for an investigation on Bryce Lawrence.” Reyna shook her head. “There is no way out of this.”

“We don’t say anything. There is no body, no proof. Therefore, nothing happened.” Nico grabbed her hands in his. “You are going to be safe from whatever fallout that is coming.”

Reyna sucked in a deep breath. She noticed how uncomfortable he looked, for him so share that information with her. The Romans, the few that liked the bastard, would inquire about Lawrence’s whereabouts. Bryce had been selected specifically to find them, had succeeded, and subsequently died at the hands of an emotionally compromised teenager. Who was an innocent boy by all accounts, no matter what anyone else thought. Nico was _su hermano._ She would protect him, if it was the last thing she did.

“We cannot let that slide, di Angelo. We need a plan.”

“Well,” Nico roughly slid away from her and paced around the room. “isn’t that great. We need to develop a plan for a dead person. What do you propose, huh?  Just come up with proof out of thin air.” He ran his hands through his hair.

Reyna let him pace. The Praetor, no matter how much it hurt him, could no longer think of di Angelo as an innocent boy. He had saved her life, and she owed the debt. But the act was performed in cold blood. She had yet to discuss the matter with Zhang. While Ryan, Simon, and Olivia were not centurions, they held a lot of influence in the Senate. All three were legacies of former powerful centurions, ones who could encourage the Senate to replace her quickly. Simon’s father, Mr. Wilson, was never a supporter of hers, a strict traditionalist who believed women would fail if put in positions of power. Unfortunately for him, Reyna would strive to prove him wrong

She had planned to have audiences with the other centurions before the debacle with Collins occurred. They had been moving schedules around, especially for those of whom that had been wounded in battle. Reyna had yet to train Zhang in the art of debate. Her callous hands rubbed at her face and she felt a hand descend on her shoulder.

“I don’t know why I feel like this, but I have this urge to protect you.” Nico started. “Like Bia, and I don’t know how I can help you with this but I will.”

“You can start by taking care of yourself.” She said calmly.

“I do take good care of myself,” He smirked and the image of an innocent little boy that needed to be coddled, disappeared again.

“No you don’t.” She said softly and Reyna grabbed his arm and pulled up the sleeve. Nico let out a frustrated sigh and she slowly peeled away the cloth. The wound was a strange livid complexion, irritated skin surrounding deep red furrows filled and leaking yellow and clear pus. Nico snatched his arm back.

“I know what you are thinking, but I am fine.” He rewrapped the bandages.

“No, it is infected. We need to take you to the infirmary it treated.”

“These aren’t normal wounds, Reyna. Godly food is not working and I am going to let it heal the normal way.”

“You shouldn’t have done half the stupid things you have so far.” She shook her head.

“Yes, I did have to do them.” Nico shouted back, defensively.

“No!” Reyna argued. “You could have taken the statue, but instead you took on Lycaon.”

“To protect you!” She stopped talking when the words left his mouth.

Nico look at her face, fury evident. “I did it all to protect you. Why do you think I killed Lawrence? Because I was actually worried about my own safety?” He questioned. “I could have cared less about my own well-being. I reacted once he hurt you, Reyna. Everything bad that I have done in my life has been to protect my family.”

“You consider me…family?” Reyna was reeling from the news.

“Yes. And don’t think for a second I would not repeat my actions to keep you safe. I would kill dozens of Bryce Lawrence’s as long as you don’t get hurt.” He muttered darkly. Nico was shaking, white as a ghost and the shadows were crawling up his legs. Reyna enveloped him in a hug, hoping the human contact would keep him stable.

“I trust you.” She pulled back. “I am honored that you think of me as your family.” Reyna pulled him back into a hug and felt the tentative hands wrap around her back. They stood there for a while until Nico released a shaky breath.

" _Bianca?”_ He was looking at her hair with a disturbing amount of interest, as if his life was somehow described in her braid. “ _Why did you do your hair without me?”_ His voice sounded far off and small. Reyna pulled away to see the glassy sheen in Nico’s eyes as he stared at her and Reyna fought the urge to scream. She had triggered soothing, with her hug, which made the son of Hades retreat to the corner of his mind. Now he was seeing someone that was dead…by staring at her visage.

 “No, Nico, no. It’s me, it’s Reyna.” She ran her hands over his face. “Remember, we were sitting on the couch in the Hades cabin. The year is 2011, it’s the summer time. We traveled Europe together with the Athena Parthenos, remember? C’mon Nico, come back to me.”

“Reyna?” He sounded dubious and questioning, but Reyna would take it or now.

“ _Sí, Nico, sí. Regresa a mi.”_ She pleaded. Nico shut his eyes, once and then twice before opening them again. The sheen was gone, replaced by a shocking dullness that evolved into anger.

 “Why are you holding me?” He asked, voice tight. She let go and breathed a sigh of relief.

“We are going to breakfast, you are going to eat, and we are going to the infirmary. You had some kind of episode and I would hate for you to not get treatment for it.”

“But I’m not crazy.” He looked at his hands and Reyna almost cried.

“No, but you are going through something that is beyond my help.”

“I’m not crazy.” He repeated, eyes narrowing.

“We are still going and we are not going to argue about it.” She stomped away and opened the door. Nico had admitted he didn’t care for his well-being. He was suffering from traumatic experiences and was currently unable to speak for himself regarding health matters. Reyna was going to take care of him; she owed him so much more, but this was something she needed to see through immediately. Nico followed her, eyes narrowed at her back and she let him. Reyna wondered, in the back of her mind, if Hazel knew this was happening. As his relative, she would have to know about his condition. But Jason had been in the cabin earlier. Perhaps the son of Jupiter knew about the situation as well.

The walk to the pavilion was silent and Reyna breathe through her nose. She nodded at her fellow Romans and watched as Nico did the same. They still saw him as Ambassador of Pluto, not as a member of Greek society. The longer they stayed there, the more the Romans would learn about how he had been sent by his father to infiltrate them. Nico was already on the list as a possible spy; this news would just quicken the trial process. The pair reached the pavilion and saw the remaining Seven sitting together. Jason looked at them, expression unrecognizable by the distance,  but Nico tapped her arm and pulled her toward the corner.

“You can sit with them if you want, but I don’t.” He said.

“You do not want to eat with your sister and your friends.” She quirked an eyebrow.

“I don’t have any friends beside you.” He shrugged. Reyna’s heart tugged, but she forced down the feelings rising in her gut.

“Then we will eat in the Roman camp. How does that sound?” He nodded, solemnly like he was giving his life away. The pair exited and there was a sudden gust of wind. The other campers stopped talking, all looking around the skies for the origins of the strange wind. Reyna cursed as she pulled out her sword and felt the familiar coolness of Stygian Iron appear.

“Does this feel similar to you?” Reyna asked, jokingly as they stared into the sky.

“No,” The word was attached with confusion, but Reyna did not push. She let him feel as though he did not remember, because she would help him restore his memories soon enough.

Suddenly, a chilling voice echoed through the clearing. “ _Death has always been kinder.”_

“Nico, Reyna,” She turned her head to see Jason running toward them. The others were following, but he reached them first. Nico had gone pale as a sheet.

“No, no, no, no,” He whispered the words and covered his ears. “What is he doing here?”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Percy asked once he reached them.

“Shit,” Jason looked fretfully around and looked back at Nico. “We can do this. Just focus on me and don’t let him into your head. Stand behind me and let me do most of the talking, okay?” Jason pleaded and Nico shook his head, resigned as if he was making his death wish. He stared at Jason’s face one more time and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Then he stood up, face steeled into impassiveness.

“Let’s greet Cupid.”             

“Lord Cupid, we welcome you to Camp Half-Blood. What can we do for you?” Jason asked. His question was answered by appearance of a god. The god was strikingly beautiful, but harsh and cold. Straight black hair went down to his muscular shoulders and his blood red eyes settled on the group, a cruel smirk spreading over his lips.  

“I have come for something that belongs to me.” The voice made Reyna’s spine tingle and she fought the urge to step back from the god. He traumatized Nico and Jason somehow and she would stand her ground for them.

“Diocletian’s scepter was destroyed on our quest.” Nico answered, his unwavering and his back straight and still.

“And why would that be?” Cupid dared to question. “You did not take my advice. You would have had better control over it if you had followed it.” Nico turned paler than he already was and Jason stepped in front of him.

“Leave him alone Cupid. The scepter is gone, you can go now.”

“Ah, Grace. You have not done what I said either. So you believe you can continue playing this game without examining your heart. It would be wise to know that option will only bring more pain.” The god continued.

“I accept it.” Jason was an unyielding force.

“Jason, don’t challenge him.” Nico grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“I suppose if you do not have the scepter, you will owe me a favor. Never borrow from love and expect to give nothing in return.” The god turned his back on them before pulling out his bow and pointing it at the boys. “Perhaps, I should give you both a little push. It would be a shame to see two of my favorite demigods fail to follow my instructions. ”

“No!” An Asian girl screamed. “Cupid, you do not want to hurt him.” Although Reyna did not know who she was, the others seemed shocked to see her shout in their defense.

“Are you standing between love, little sister? You, of all the people in this camp, should know that it is not possible to stop love from running its course and dying out. Literally.” The god’s red eyes narrowed. “Tell Solace his clock is ticking.” The god disappeared from view, leaving behind a few feathers.

The campers let out a sigh of relief, but Reyna looked down to see the grass beneath her feet had died. All the grass surrounding the Seven had turned brown and wilted, looking much like Nico. The boy pitched forward and Reyna barely caught him. Nico was gasping heaving breathes and Reyna saw how terrified he was. Jason fell over as well, onto his knees with an arrow sticking out of is back. The son of Jupiter grimaced in pain.

“They’ve been shot. We need to take them to the infirmary.” Annabeth whispered. “What the hell happened on Croatia?” Except Piper did not give the answer they were expecting.

“They went to Croatia to grab an object instrumental for rescuing you in the Necromanteion. Jason never told me what happened there or that he met Cupid. Why didn’t he tell me?”

“We met Cupid,” Jason spat bitterly.  “I hate that guy. He questioned our relationship, Pipes. He said it was not legitimate. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Because he tried to hurt us by messing with our love lives.”

“Then what does have to do with Nico?” Hazel asked. “He isn’t in love with anyone.”

Jason shook his head. "I do not know." It was a blatant lie. 

Reyna looked down at the almost unconscious boy in her arms, hyperventilating  when he said something.

“You can’t make me tell them, Cupid. It won’t ever happen.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for recap:
> 
> Reyna is worried about her position as leader being threatened by a few unsavory characters. The political games are about to start! Hazel and Jason have a heart to heart about someone they truly care about and how they plan to help him. Percy and Annabeth develop an unspoken bond, which will present issues in the future. In addition, Percy feels out of place at Camp. Nico and Reyna's relationship develops. Oh, and Cupid makes an appearance. I hope you enjoyed. There is one last POV that needs to be reintroduced and we will have our main characters down. 
> 
> Also :  
> Sí, Nico, sí. Regresa a mi ---Yes, Nico, yes. Come back to me.


	4. Where Will You Be?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because that what a teenager does. They immerse themselves in all the things that make them happy, and Frank was going to be a teen for once. He simply deserved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long absence on this story. It's been some time, but I have had a lot of exams. I still have some, but I am going to work on this as much as possible before I go away to perform some philanthropic work this summer. I hope you enjoy this chapter :).
> 
> This chapter focuses more on outside interpretation of events instead of personal angst compared to earlier chapters. So, enjoy some peace. Next chapter we get back into the heavy stuff and greet some of our favorite characters!

_Chapter 4: Where Will You Be?_

_There is something tainting and brewing in the streets. Lies pass through the Elmer glued cracks like rain, falling into the foundation of the rocks. The city lights twinkle as the little heathens race through the streets, heads thrown back as peals of laughter fall from heroin-stained pink lips. Sometimes, the time feels infinite; it stretches longer than it should to let the villains creep up dirty brick roads and the cells remain empty because who is truly left to keep the peace? So the little boys and little girls curl into one another, on straw beds in the prison, cradle themselves in the dirty alleyways deep in the dark gaps, just some children who have their souls to keep._

_…_

Sometimes Annabeth forgot about the strength of emotions. She forgot that the youth, whom wield the swords and spathas and bows with unparalleled skill, were just as susceptible to misfortune as she was. They were not invincible. She knew, and hated to admit, that she was fallible and Percy would fall with her with every mistake. But others…those who did not rely on her or her boyfriend ( _lover…paramour…words could not describe what he was to her anymore)_ were responsible for their own choices. And they were made of flesh and blood, not steel and iron—two concessions she did not take lightly. Annabeth used to believe Luke hung the moon. Now she knows he fell to hell and never managed to climb all the way out.

In hindsight of her own struggles, she forgot that there were others, her friends and companions, who were suffering. Not physically apparent, but there was an internal struggle that was trapped under the surface of skin. Some mental affliction or personal malady was more taxing than getting stabbed. And, despite not having a psychology degree, Annabeth noticed when those feelings manifested themselves in the material world with a vengeance she was unused to. She certainly was not expecting to view it from the least likely person.

Once the arrow had been removed from his back, Jason had no trouble extricating himself from the barrier of friends surrounding him. He moved purposefully to where the green grass was now dyed a pitiful gray and settled down between two mother hens and their clutch. Reyna and Hazel gave him flummoxed expressions, but that did not stop the son of Zeus from grabbing Nico and pulling him into a large bear hug. Even Nico startled before trying to withdraw.

“Jason, let go,” came the muffled request.

“That’s the second time Cupid’s shot at us. Excuse me for being glad you’re not going crazy right now.”

“Crazy!” His outraged squawk made Annabeth wince. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“Last time…” Jason drawled.

“Last time was a lapse in control. I’m fine now.” Nico looked over his shoulder. “It won’t happen again.”

“We should take you two to the infirmary where you can get treated and then explain whatever you are talking about.” Annabeth commented.

“Is it common to get attacked during breakfast?” Frank questioned, to add some levity.

Piper, bless her, shook her head. “Only during dinner and that is if Percy is here.” Percy let out a bashful grin.

“C’mon guys. You have a whole cavalry of demigods waiting to ambush you for gossip. Let’s go to the infirmary. When I was last here, the Apollo Cabin had plans to have it rebuilt. I want to see what it looks like.” Percy grinned.

Nico managed to push himself out of Jason’s hold and stood up, brushing himself off. “I’m sorry.” He spoke softly to his sister and kissed her forehead. “For scaring you, I mean.”

“You better not do that again. I thought it was like those dreams, you were talking to yourself.” Hazel rambled on, wrapping her hands around his middle. Her forehead banged against his chin, but Annabeth watched as he embraced her with an expression of clam. She had never seen something so tender on him.

“It’s different,” Percy frowned.

“You can make amends to him later, Seaweed Brain.” She kissed his cheek and grabbed his calloused hand in her own. “We’re going to find out what is really going on before Chiron comes to investigate.”

The group walked away from the patch of deadened grass. Piper had wrapped herself around Jason, who calmly obliged her request to be close. She stroked his hair, nuzzled his cheek, and gave him worried glances the entire way. It made sense, Annabeth reasoned. He had only been inflicted a mortal wound not too long ago and now there was this mess a day after Leo’s death. Jason just gave her smile, assured her he was fine, and they kept walking.

The new infirmary was located not too far from the Big House. The health care facility was two stories tall, exterior reinforced with wood and insulated concrete. Large blue windows streamed light into the reception area, which was visible from the outside. Smaller windows decorated the in-patient rooms and the upper floor. Annabeth led her friends through the oaken door and smiled at Kayla behind the desk. Kayla was buried deep in her book.

“He’s waiting for you in room 213. Go upstairs and take a left,” The daughter of Apollo licked her finger and turned the page of the large text in her lap.

“Thank you,” with that, Annabeth ushered her friends up the stairs. The walls of the infirmary were not covered in garish wallpaper. Instead, it stuck to nude walls with cream crown-molding, Malcolm’s signature. Her heart ached a little at the thought of her brother.

“I really like this. The design,” Piper clarified. Annabeth had to agree. The infirmary had adopted a rustic atmosphere that made the building feel as though it was a real cabin. The only qualities that detracted from the country setting were the inner plumbing and modified lighting. They reached the Room 213, only to hear rising voices.

“Drew, get out of here! I am about to tend to patients.”

“As if,” there was the demeaning scoff. “So the wonder boys were struck by Cupid. They’ll be fine eventually, but it was you he specifically called out before he left. Imagine what my brother wants with you, honey.” Drew laughed.

Piper knocked on the door before opening it. Drew Tanaka was seated on the arm of a brown window seat under the sunlight. Will Solace stood across from her, an aggravated sigh slipping from his mouth before he flashed his customary blinding smile.

“Drew, I think it’s time to go.”

“Nope, I want to meet the newbies. Hello, handsome,” she winked at Jason and Piper frowned.

“Hi to you too Drew,” Jason rolled his eyes. “Are you free Will? We can come back later if you want.”

“Naw, it’s fine,” The son of Apollo shook his head. The entourage entered the room and Will’s eyes widened when he took in Percy and Annabeth.

“You’re both alright.” Somehow his smile brightened and Annabeth could not stop herself from returning the gesture. Will managed to make every one smile—either it was a sign of his father or he had natural charisma oozing out of his pores. Annabeth knew it was the latter.

“We are okay.” Annabeth said, the words not feeling right on her tongue. Best to assuage the fears of others, she thought, than draw more attention to yourself.

“Can’t keep me away,” Percy joked and Will grinned.

“I didn’t expect you all here so quickly.” Will admitted. “Thanks for passing on the message.” Hazel shook her head.

“Nico was shot by an arrow, so I was hoping you could…” She started, but was soon cut off by Solace.

“I leave you alone for less than twenty-four hours and you manage to get yourself shot, Death Boy! Are you trying to set a new record for causing heart attacks? Wait, don’t answer that question. Just get on the bed.” Annabeth raised an eyebrow. Will was usually jovial, an even-tempered sort of guy with a penchant for nagging, yes, but not outbursts. Even Percy was puzzled by the uncharacteristic display.

“Excuse me, no.” Nico shrugged his shoulders. “I already said I’m fine and I am not going to waste time in here. Reyna, Frank and I have somewhere to be.”

“We just need Jason and Nico checked out. After that, we’ll be out of your hair.” Frank said. Will nodded.

“I already have your patient charts, so we can start. We’ll start with Jason since he is more agreeable to treatment.” He shot a look at Nico.

“I don’t need your treatment. What I need isn’t here.” A frown appeared on Will’s face, and it drew lines across the top of his head. He shrugged and turned to Jason, who obediently sat on a cot.

Will gave him a once over before reaching out his hand, “May I?”

“Uh, sure,” Jason’s head cocked to the side, but grasped his hand. Annabeth remembered how it worked. Children of Apollo could catalogue health profiles through touch. Of course, it required strict focus and it was not immediate, but it shortened the process of slowly identifying all injuries.

“Hmm, you need to develop some more muscle tone around the stomach. I’m not saying that you aren’t fit; however, your recent abdominal wound may prohibit or hinder some actions as you age, so you’ll want to start an exercise regimen to prevent that. Also, eat more carrots to preserve your eyesight. Your prescription is a little high,” Will rattled off as he walked around Jason. “The arrow wound was not major, so you should be fine to continue your normal activities. Any questions?”

“Wow,” Frank muttered. “No one does that in our camp.”

“I presume you are from the Roman group?”

“Yes, I’m Praetor Frank Zhang.”

“Nice to meet you,” Will shook his hand. “Either your bunch doesn’t vocally relay the injuries or they aren’t as in tune with it as I am. I’ve been working in the infirmary since I was nine and I am the best healer in the camp, so I guess it’s just an automatic skill now.”

Annabeth ignored the rest of the exchange. Drew’s words echoed in her head. Cupid did mention Solace, but why? She had been at the camp the longest, but nothing had ever happened to the Will while she had been there. Unless, she thought, it had happened during a quest, which was quite possible. Yet, no one had bothered to mention any strange occurrences during her absences. She shook her head. Annabeth had too many puzzles to solve.

“I need to leave,” Reyna stood abruptly. “If you are going to stay for medical attention, then you can. Frank, you need to come with me.”

Frank rose from his position on the couch to exit, as well as Nico and Hazel, both of whom Reyna pushed back into their seats.

“You need my help.” Nico argued.

“We already established that you are going to get treated first, and then you can come help me.” She remained firm. “Zhang, meet me by the Praetor’s tent and tell Kimi to send out the message that we are having a meeting at noon. You may join him, Levesque.” Hazel jumped to follow the order and latched onto Frank’s hand, the two disappearing out the door.

“Reyna, what are you doing?” Annabeth raised an eyebrow. Reyna looked back at her with a cooler glance.

“We have to announce Zhang’s new praetorship and with Jason’s confirmed bill of health, we can proceed to have a Senate meeting and discuss the change in authority.” Reyna replied calmly. “However, we will need witnesses.”

“Technically, you will need two.” Nico supplied.

“Which is why I have Grace and Levesque,” she curtly replied. Annabeth watched the exchange with clear amusement and Percy was watching the two go back and forth. Even Drew was watching the pair.

“The Senate won’t listen to a panel made up of a former Praetor who has now assumed a Greek identity, and another who they assume is a deserter because she followed Percy willingly. You know the Romans have no respect for the prophecy. Thus, your only choice is me because the people believe I have no ties to the Greeks.”

“Isn’t that a lie?” Percy leaned forward. “You’ve always been Greek.”

“Nationality-wise, I was born in Rome. I’m more Roman than all of you.” Nico turned his head to Jason. “And you know I chose my side long ago, and it was not for the Greeks.”

“That is utter bull!” Will shouted and the group jumped. “You helped Lou, Cecil, and I do recon against the Romans.”

“That’s because Octavian needed to be stopped.” Nico shakily rose from his chair. “I side with the group that helps me and keeps my sister safe. That’s the Romans. I have no loyalty to the Greeks and I never will.”

“No, you helped us during the Titan war and you didn’t have to. You could have sided with Kronos, but you rallied Hades, Persephone, Demeter, and an army of the undead to help us. So something was tying you to us.” Percy stood and grabbed Nico’s arm.

“I only help the people I love!” he yelled and Percy took a step back from the smaller teen, who shook with indignation.

“Nico, don’t—“ Jason started.

“What part of that do you not understand? I probably would have went to Kronos, believe me I considered it.If it was not for the fact that I love—“ Nico clamped his hand and his eyes went wide. The room was deathly quiet and Nico closed his mouth.

“I’m going to meet with my sister at your tent. I…I,” he ran out the room. Jason stood and kissed Piper softly on the cheek.

“I need to make sure he doesn’t try to…jeez.” Jason gave up and stalked out the room. Drew interrupted the startled silence with a laugh.

“Oh please, don’t tell me you all didn’t know.” She laughed again.

“Know what?” Piper asked.

“The rumors are true.”

“What rumors?” Annabeth asked. “Since when did the camp have rumors about di Angelo?”

“Oh, not recently. It was a while before he left because he couldn’t get over your sickening displays of affection.” Drew examined her manicure.

“Just answer the question.” Reyna snapped.

“Death Boy has always been in love with Annabeth. It’s the only reason he returns to camp: to fight the wars Annabeth and Percy are in, because he has a shot at protecting you from more enemies.” Drew released a sigh before a saccharine grin grew on her plump lips. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know. I’m a daughter of Aphrodite and I can read the signs. He’s loved you since he met you.”

Will’s frown grew and he turned to the side. looking dejected, he  clicked his tongue. “I need to check on my other patients.” And he left the room.

Somehow, with the newly presented information and the surprise apparent on both Piper and Reyna’s faces, Annabeth could only doubt it. It had some merit—the way he glared at their held hands, the way he would frown when Percy and her kissed, and how he always seemed a little hurt when the two were affectionate in public. That was the merit. But Annabeth cannot help he is in love with her. Nope, there was no love there.

…

Somehow, the tent managed to fit all the Centurions and the chief advisors for the Roman Army. It was an unofficial meeting with only a portion of the Senate, but it would have to do for his instatement as Praetor. Reyna stood at the head of the table, Jason sitting to her right and the left seat vacant. Kimi Abney stood behind her. To his left, Dakota, Michael, and Leila were seated. On the other side, Larry, Nathan, Marcus, and Ryan. Hank was absent due to an injury. Olivia Collins smirked. Hazel sat near the end of the table, as it was her first council meeting and she was not officially  part of the council, but not an unimportant individual. Frank wished he could pull her into the seat beside him, have her close to draw strength from. Instead, there was distance and a black curtain.

“Have you seen Nico?” Jason leaned over to him and whispered. He shook his head. “Dammit, he took off after the infirmary and said he would meet us here.”

“Did something happen?” Now Frank was curious. Jason always showed concern for everyone, but his newfound fixation on Hazel’s brother was confusing.

“He exploded on Percy in the infirmary shortly after you guys left and I couldn’t find him,” he admitted.

“It was probably nothing. He’s volatile with a short temper.” Frank shrugged.

“I am glad you could all join for today.” Reyna stated. “I only have two important matter to discuss, and one of those has to be investigated when he get back to New Rome. So first, we need to discuss the situation about our augur. The position is currently vacant and the only viable candidate is Thea Payne, legacy of Apollo who is only thirteen years old and we have no one to teach her.”

“If I may make a suggestion, Praetor, we do have Jennifer.” Nathan raked a hand through his blond hair. “She’s present, aiding in the medical tents. I know she served twelve years ago, but she does have amazing experience and was a better augur than the one we had before.”

“I will take your candidate into consideration. Thank you,” Reyna opened her mouth to start on something else when a large shadow spat out Nico wearing his black toga over his clothing. He took the seat next to Praetor.

“Sorry, Praetor. I had some urgent affairs to attend to.” Olivia leaned forward.

“You did not miss anything, Ambassador. Praetor Ramirez-Arellano was only informing us of our new augur and the candidate to train her.” She added the words sickly-sweet.

“Of course,” Nico nodded in her direction.

“What we should discuss is the vacant Praetor position. It is a sign of weakness if we only have one .” Ryan spoke calmly. “Since the debacle with Octavian, we have only appeared to be a symbol of weak leadership. I apologize to you, Reyna, for the wavering loyalty of our legionnaires during this time. We should not have listened to Octavian.”

“I accept your apology. As for praetorship, Jason Grace will not be returning to us as praetor. He has taken the honorary position of Pontifex Maximus by the gods and will be frequenting between both camps to establish peace between us.” Jason gave a nod as many of the council began to clap.

“It is good to see you again Jason.” Marcus nodded in his direction.

“He has appointed Frank Zhang to be his successor.” And then there was an uproar.

“You can’t make Zhang our Praetor!”

“Really, Frank. You couldn’t chose anyone better.”

“What is wrong with Frank? He’s better than having you!” The cacophonous sounds rose as more and more members started arguing for or against his position.

“ENOUGH!” They quieted when Jason yelled. “Zhang has showed remarkable leadership qualities during our quest. He has guided us during our fight against the Giants and Gaea and he deserves your respect.”

“I would rather have someone else as our praetor than a deserter.” Marcus crossed his arms. “I do not own my support to someone who ditched us after the Greeks attacked. They set my mother’s house on fire.” Frank groaned internally.

“That wasn’t the Greeks fault. That was an eidolon’s. Roman wards do not stop possession because Roman spirits can easily invade a person’s body when they are unwanted.” Nico examined his nails. “I was not there for the attack, but I know enough about the dead to know that they wanted to cause harm. You have some very intolerable spirits on your streets. Handle them.”

“And you agree with Zhang’s praetorship?”  Olivia questioned.

“I have worked with Zhang before. I was there when Grace appointed him as his successor and I proclaim him to be a great leader. Grace would never lead you astray with his choice and you can trust that I would not salute anyone who is willing to harm the infrastructure of New Rome. Let Zhang prove himself to you when you reach the West Coast and then proceed from there.” Frank looked at him quizzically. Hazel was beaming as her brother spoke in her boyfriend’s defense.  The other was quieted and nodded.

“Are you sure there is no one else?” Michael asked.

“I am not sure you should be talking, Kahale.” Frank turned to him. “You may be the Centurion of the First Cohort, but you still supported Octavian’s war effort with little resistance. You and some of your co-conspirators are only in this room because you have been a dependable and reliable person in the past. Don’t think your future actions will not be scrutinized.”

“Spoken like a true Praetor,” Ryan laughed. “Reyna, if you sponsor him and get him properly trained before our arrival at New Rome, then I will whole-heartedly advocate for his installation.” Frank blushed from the praise.

“Don’t blush. They like it when your tough.” Jason supplied.

“We will have an official vote in New Rome. But for now, those not in favor of Frank Zhang becoming our Praetor raise your hands.”

Surprisingly, no one raised their hands. Reyna waited a beat or two, before smiling softly at Frank. “Welcome to the Senate, Frank Zhang. The rest of you can go. We will be eating at the Greek pavilion and Zhang and I will be speaking to Chiron. Spend some time with your friends and family until we can set an official meeting date with the leaders of Camp Half-Blood. Thank you.”

The Centurions slowly left the tent one by one until Hazel, Jason, and Nico and himself were left. Reyna let out a sigh and stretched in her chair. Her dogs moved to sit by her feat like loyal servants and Reyna released a weary laugh.

“That went well. Thank you for speaking up for him. You know they barely take a grain of salt from my words.”

“The Second, Third, and Fifth Cohorts are loyal to you for the most part, Rey.” Jason clapped her on the arm. “You shouldn’t worry. They will help you and Frank as long as they can.”

“It actually went better than expected.” Frank stood and rolled his shoulders. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“That’s the thing. I have already talked with some of the cohorts and they are open to getting to know their Greek counterparts or spending time with wounded friends. You are free to do whatever you want to, for today at least.”

“Are you sure?” Hazel asked.

“Yeah,” Reyna nodded.

“So, then we all go hang out. That was the plan before,” Hazel frowned. “Never mind, let’s just spend time together.”

“I can’t,” Reyna confessed. “Your brother and I need to discuss somethings, but the rest of you are free to go.”

“But—“

“Just go, Hazel. I’ll see you later.” Nico rolled his eyes.

Hazel grabbed onto his arm. “Promise,” she pleaded and Nico nodded, leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Go hang out with Jason and Frank, I’m certain the others miss you too.”

They parted with a smile and Hazel walked back to Frank. Frank stood there like a sentinel. He knew he did not speak much, and when he did it was to state an important fact or a rational option. So, as calmly as he knew, he wrapped his arms around Hazel and let out a shuddering breath. Then he looked down into her golden eyes and smiled.

“How does it feel to be dating the new Praetor?”

“It feels pretty good.” She laughed. “Come on, we should go find the others.” She started to walk away, but Frank pulled her back to kiss her on the lips. Usually their kisses were a short, cut press of the lips. But now, it was slow and encompassing. He could almost taste the strawberry lip gloss smeared on her lips and in the back of his mind, he was on his way to counting five Mississippi’s. She pulled away first, a delicate blush blossoming under her skin. He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her waist, following behind Jason to Camp Half-Blood. Frank Zhang may have started as no one, but now he was Praetor. With his friends by his side, he could live up to the responsibility. But, before he doomed himself to a stressful job, he was going to relax with some of his favorite people. Because that what a teenager does. They immerse themselves in all the things that make them happy, and Frank was going to be a teen for once. He simply deserved it.


End file.
